


He's Back

by justsimplymeagain



Category: Supernatural
Genre: A Deal fic plus consequences, Alastair revival, Betrayal, Implied Torture, Love Triangles, M/M, Psychological Torture, Purgatory, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-23
Updated: 2013-07-01
Packaged: 2017-12-03 07:23:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 59,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/695715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justsimplymeagain/pseuds/justsimplymeagain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With a cut that was too easy for him to make he slide the sharpened blade across the black swirling mass and watched as it poured out onto the corpse and filing his nostrils with sulphur.</p><p>A/N: Currently discontinued due to my computer having to be reformated and all the notes and what I had done on this story being lost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Return Of Dean Winchester

Purgatory was pure.

Dean learnt this the hard way, and it wasn't the kind of pure that frees your innocence or washes you clean. This wasn't the kind of Purgatory that is always featured in old books.

There it was a constant fight for your life.

There it was kill or be killed, emotions or morals tend to take a back seat to survival here. And Dean found that it was too easy to fall into a habit of just killing.

Dean found that Purgatory sharpened him in ways he didn't fully want to understand, but did. Purgatory was a place of reestablishing things that shouldn't have been.

And that was what brought him to an old building as soon as he escaped. As soon as he was free and favouring his right arm he skipped going to Sam immediately to do what he promised to do.

Dean stood in a room staring at a pentagram made of metal and chains stood. The tools he used that day was still scattered on the floor and the devil's trap that was made to be disrupted by a pipe by Uriel. Dean remembers that he got sent to the hospital because of it. Which might have been funny if Dean was in a better mood, after all Castiel should have been able to heal him if not for the restraint issue the angel has-had.

Pulling up his sleeve he eyed the black swirling mark on his arm that showed that not all was normal with him. But this was his passenger, him fulfilling his promise. With a cut that was too easy for him to make he slide the sharpened blade across the black swirling mass and watched as it poured out like ink filing his nostrils with sulphur and he watched in morbid curiosity as the liquid quickly evaporated into the usual cloud you would see for a demon the same time as flesh reformed and showed life. Blood was missing but the scars remained.

A silent testament held in pride.

Dean hated those scars.

Dean had to mentally remind himself to keep a distance from Alas-the demon now that they are back on Earth. This gained nothing but amusement.

“I'm hurt, you had no problem sticking close to me in Purgatory. Almost clinging me hard enough to keep me next to you.” Alastair mocked but he made no move towards Dean, instead idly picked at the old blood stained clothing he died in.

“That was noth...” Dean insisted, perhaps foolishly but he didn't care. Instead he focused on everything and Alastair and found the silence to be disturbing.

“Now you're lying to yourself boy. But, that's okay. It's hard to adapt now that we're topside and out of that hole.” Alastair scolded, his tone taking that of a mockingly patient teacher. He sounded understanding and Dean was proud that he stood where he was rather then lean towards the mock comfort Alastair provided without any effort at all.

“It's no lie. I preached to Sam all the time about that sort of thing, you're not going to say a word and it never happened. None of it.” Dean hissed out, wincing inwardly at the audacity he had to raise his voice and speak down to Alastair who trained him not to for thirty five years.

Alastair only smiled and Dean winced. Normally he would be in for it, he would suffer for his audacity and disrespect to his former master. Dean could feel the phantom pain of that punishment that was always soothed afterwards as a silent promise of making it better so long as Dean behaves like a good boy.

He didn't behave at the start. Dean had too much pride for that.

But Alastair took that and everything else too.

“Are you sure Sam waited for you? If my calculations are right, we were gone for a year. A long time.” Alastair calmly said and Dean had to endure as Alastair moved until he was behind him. Why did he even let the demon stand there? Dean tensed at the gentle touch against his mid-back.

Finding a strength he didn't know he had with Alastair he pulled away and started towards the door he used to come in and torture Alastair and was carried out and then used once again to come through to bring Alastair back. A promise was a promise no matter how damned and foolish it was. And Dean found himself to be very foolish for this.

“Sam's waiting. He tried to get to me when I went to Hell, he would have tried again when I went to Purgatory.” Dean said, he knows this to be true. Because what else would've Sam done while Dean was away in a Hell away from Hell. That was what kept him going in Purgatory before and during his meeting up with Alastair.

_Dean watched as another vampire killed a vampire for him. Dean eventually struck a deal with this creature, Benny and they eventually started to travel together and Dean was searching for Castiel. Word was that it was in a part of Purgatory where the forest ends and caves and caverns start. Trees were fewer but still present. Bones and teeth hung from the tree's farthest in some of the caverns and lined the entrance of the caves._

_Benny informed him of it being a Demons cave, where all demons tend to dwell._

_Dean felt compelled to enter, if Castiel was there then he was being tortured or something worse. Benny reluctantly followed._

_They didn't make it far before they were captured and Dean discovered much to his shock they weren't in their stolen vessels here. They were in their true forms and Dean heard Benny wretch at the sight of them. Dean would too if he didn't already see them like this._

_He recognized some of them, others were harder to figure out but he knows they weren't big fish compared to the white eyed one that he knows is Lilith and the Yellow Eyed one Dean despised. His heart however he remembered stopped at the sight of Alastair who approached him with his arms wide open in greeting._

If his heart beat any harder that day it would have burst, Dean was sure of that. Eventually they were captured and after a mock hug from Alastair he was strapped to a rack and watched as Benny was cut into first and tortured. He died cursing Deans name.

Eventually a deal was struck away from the others ears and eyes and with that it was only Alastair and Dean as they slipped out of the Demon's territory.

And the rest as they say is history. It all led to where Dean was now as he left Alastair behind wondering if he did the right thing. And with that thought he felt chilled in the nights air.

He had to go find Sam and then see if Kevin is with him and if the kid was okay.

And that was exactly what Dean Winchester did, and in total it took him about 73 hours to locate Sam's current location or what appeared to be his location for the past year.

The location Dean found himself was not an apartment that stands out, it was rather discreet by many standards. He found this place through contacts he still had. The Impala was sitting in the driveway and through a window Dean watched Sam walk about and smile with a woman. Sam went and got himself the apple pie life. Dean knows he should have been happy for Sam, but the selfish question of 'did he not search for me' kept coming up and forced Dean to feel angry all over again.

He wondered how Alastair knew this because the demon hinted at Sam not waiting for him and questioned whether or not Sam would be waiting. Dean felt like he was sucker punched and had to turn away to keep himself from losing himself to anger. Running a hand over his face Dean wondered where Kevin was, the kid was a Prophet and that means he was a number one target for demons especially if they wanted something from him and Heaven may not be up to protecting the kid.

Frowning he steeled himself enough to keep his own anger and the memories of Purgatory at bay as he approached the door of the apartment building and locating Sam's room. A lump formed in his throat, in the end he couldn't do it though and stormed down the street. He had to calm himself down first, that was his excuse and plus how could he know if Sam truly didn't look for him. Perhaps he did but like when Dean was in Hell he gave up and went and got himself the apple pie life and Dean couldn't help but think that at least he wasn't with a demon. Or at least he hoped that woman wasn't a demon, if she was then Dean would have a few things to say about that.

Not that he could talk anymore.

_Dean didn't really know how it happened or what led to this. He blamed the argument that ended with him knocked on his ass and hurting. Alastair was into giving pain to others, no matter who they were and how cherished they were. Dean was used to the pain though, and in a twisted away it reminded him that he was still alive and still human even here._

_Alastair when he was like this always loved to dominate, which wasn't all that new. The demon was always around him, in him and on him. Always leaving him panting and shivering in anger and pain and pleasure and dare he say lust. The demon always knows how to touch him to make him fall apart through lust and at times unwanted pleasure._

_Dean hates that it leaves him craving more. And he always pushes back for more and at the same time it was never enough._

_Alastair pushed in harder and Dean found himself letting out a whine while shifting underneath the demon for more. A chuckle was barely heard but definitely felt against his throat._

Dean cursed slightly as he rounded the corner and stormed towards a bar. He had to get himself money in order to get himself a hotel and clean himself up a bit. Not to mention memories that were plaguing him almost left Dean wanting. Faintly he wondered where Alastair was now, what he was doing and who he was cutting up. Dean shook the thought from his head, killing and torturing people was wrong and Dean knows this so he shouldn't be curious about what the demon was doing.

A pang of shame shot through him as he entered the bar with a frown and instantly located the pool table and went to work. It didn't take long to talk a couple of drunks into loaning him money with the promise of paying them back. And he did, now with his own cash he worked on doubling that while buying himself and the two drunks a drink to appease them enough to leave him be.

Three hours later he left the bar slightly buzzed and four hundred dollars richer. And a few angry losers left behind. Dean didn't really care about that, he had what he wanted. He needed a phone but he'll have to get those from Sam tomorrow. Dean couldn't wait to drive his car again, it was funny how much you can miss something like that especially when you're forced to run or walk everywhere for an entire year of trying to stay alive. And more importantly, escaping.

The shower was almost heavenly and he says almost because he's been to Heaven and it's no big deal for Dean. Too much bad memories and corruption that ties into what he saw and knows because of the Apocalypse. It probably isn't like that but for Dean it was and now he doesn't even know if it's the same because of the civil war that brought Cas to his knee's with insanity and corruption.

A bitter smile showed, the one person he didn't think would go down that road did. Still the angel had enough balls to try to fix his mistakes and that was more then what most people did. At least he tried. He didn't like Dean's company in Purgatory but didn't get a choice because he quickly learnt that Alastair could hold his own against him even now. And they didn't even come to blows. If they did then Castiel would have won, he had more power now then he did when he first crossed Alastair's path back when Dean was still fresh to the situation and still reeling from what happened in Hell.

Dean felt horrible that Castiel couldn't escape with them. Alastair was smug or at least that's what Dean assumed from the satisfied thrum in his arm.

He wished he could have saved his friend. Instead he'll carry the angel in his memory as best that he could with everything else both good and bad and down right evil.

Sleep didn't come easy for Dean, dreams of Hell and Purgatory kept pushing him back to waking up. By the time it was seven in the morning he only managed to get an hour and a half of sleep. But that was more then he could have asked for as he put on dirty clothing that smelt like Purgatory and him. A tint of sulphur that Sam would no doubt notice if he still had his head in the game. But Sam no doubt would, even after Stanford he had his head on his shoulders. Though so much has happened since then that knocked his baby brother back in some ways. Hurt him. Broke him. Dean would reap revenge for that if he could, but he can't so he carried on.

Dean located his brother who was now at a store. He let his brother enter before reacquainting himself with his car as best that he could from the outside. Finally leaning against the passenger door and waiting. People looked at him funny, no doubt because of the clothing. No one dared say a word above whispers amongst each other, either it was about him or he was a bit paranoid.

Examining the ground he didn't notice someone approaching until a quiet mentioning of his name drew his attention back up from the ground.

Dean couldn't help but smile at the shocked puppy dog look Sammy gave him. Any anger he felt was for the moment forgotten as he was pulled into a tight hug he happily returned.

“Hey Sam...” Dean greeted. That was enough to get his little brother to tighten his hold. Dean knows what to expect the second they get to the apartment, they went through the old hunter tricks of making sure you were human. At least Sam didn't forget that part. Instant honest relief was felt as he sat down with Sam.

Though good reunions only last until the questioning started.

Dean wasn't disappointed when things took a turn for the worst. He unfortunately expected it.

To really sum up what Dean learnt from the sorry explanation he gained from his little brother was that Sam hit a dog with his baby. Sam met a girl not too long after Dean was sucked into Purgatory with Castiel. Amelia was her name and Dean didn't know why he wanted to so badly curse her name out but he pushed that back and bit his tongue. The next question he pushed onto Sam was about Kevin Tran. Where was the Prophet of the Lord. And the answer Dean got did nothing to improve his mood. Sam left the boy to fend for himself when all of Hell would be at his heels and Heaven is in shambles so they couldn't protect him. Dean instantly brought this up and rubbed his face angrily while listening to Sam. He did feel like shit at knowing how broken up Sam was about it, but still once you get your head together at least protect the boy if he wasn't going to look for a way to get Dean out of Purgatory.

Dean wanted to accuse him, yell and scream in anger and hurt. He wanted to tell his brother how the only thing that kept him going was the thought that Sam would be waiting on the other side of whatever opening Dean uses to get out. That was the only thing that kept him human in the midst of chaos among other things.

“Where's Cas?” Sam asked, reluctance was heard but his little brother pushed on like a true Winchester when searching for any bit of information they could drag out of someone. Or more correctly whatever information or anything they can drag out of Dean! His Dad was the same. Dean felt anger coursing through his body, it wasn't the kind that Dean would dub normal. It was almost like a white hot and blackened rage that was almost all consuming.

He pushed it back and focused on the question.

Where was Cas.

“He didn't make it.” Dean answered as he turned his back on Sam feeling eyes on the back of his head as Sam no doubt stared hard at him. Looking for lies? Dean didn't know and didn't really care. He betrayed Castiel by allowing Alastair to travel with him. By striking up a deal with that son of a bitch. Castiel wasn't able to follow, either he wasn't strong enough or Dean wasn't strong enough to pull his only friend with him.

He couldn't raise Castiel like Cas did to him in Perdition. From the Pit. Dean always had a fantasy of saving Castiel like that, repaying a debt that can never truly be paid.

“I'm sorry.” Sam said, ten minutes was how long it took Sam to say that. Dean only knows that because there was a clock on the wall and he didn't even know why he was keeping track of the time. A knock on the door caught Dean's attention and he stiffened instantly. Sam cursed from behind him, he recognized the hello that followed through the door.

Answering the door he allowed an unassuming woman through the door. Curved and brown hair. Not his type. Dean put on a forced smile when Sam introduced them reluctantly. Sam was reluctant to introduce his own girlfriend to Dean! That was a bit insulting to say the least. Dean acted pleasant enough. He could understand though, faintly.

But Dean was angry so he was probably viewing things in a one sided point of view here. But damn it, he was hurting. He was proved wrong in his confident words and beliefs when it comes to Sam in so many arguments and disagreements with Alastair. It just, it just wasn't fair.

The phone rang and Dean nearly growled at how normal everything was, and how far behind him hunting was put. Dean was left with Amelia.

“I was told you were dead...” She said, and Dean could hear how awkward she felt. Dean just smiled at her and explained casually that they got separated and when Sam didn't see a body he just assumed that Dean was dead and not coming back. She made a comment about this and Dean casually replied,  
“Ya well I'm pretty good at coming back from the dead.”

As soon as Sam walked into the room Amelia seemed more comfortable, something about him set her on edge. Dean found it rather petty but he couldn't help but think 'good' as a response to that discomfort. Sam obviously didn't approve with the slightly darkened look he shot Dean. Dean held it easily. It wasn't his fault that she was a skittish little thing and Dean just got back from Purgatory, so could you blame him for being a bit 'off' by so called normal standards?

“Got work to do Sammy, that kid has been left out there for a year on his own with a high price on his head if he isn't caught already.” Dean said casually and instantly located the keys to the impala making it clear that he was taking the car back. He didn't give anyone a chance to say anything as he left to sit in the driver seat of the car. He let himself have a moment. Though he could practically smell the mutt in the backseat. He'll have to clean his baby from top to bottom.

Eventually Sam was in the driver seat and they were on there way looking for Kevin with a faint hope that they would find him again. Sam was angry, so was Dean. Dean made a silent promise to make sure Sam could return to that apple pie life but after they make sure everything was okay with the kid. Dean only has a faint idea of where he might be from texts he sent to Sam that went unanswered.

Dean wondered if anything else happened during that year that defeated his brother so badly, aside from Dean's disappearance. Half way there they were back to talking, though it was strained at best. Most of it was about Purgatory and Kevin. One question stood out to Dean though and it was the one that made him uncomfortable. That question was the simple one of how did he get out.

All Dean answered was,  
“Had a bit of help.” And it was the truth, only thing was it was half of the truth. Sam would be pissed if he learnt that Dean accepted help from the same demon that broke him in Hell and the same demon Sam hallucinated about when coming off of the demon blood.

They unavoidably tracked him down to an old church from what the texts hinted at, which in turn started only six months earlier. Sam obviously felt horrible for that, Dean could tell but he let Sam sit in his own guilt for some time. It's not him that he has to make this part up to. It's the kid who by some miracle managed to take care of himself. Kevin was in fact relieved at seeing them but had to make sure that they were who they said they were. Dean could tell the boy did a lot of growing up during his time away. This sort of life does that to you, Dean learnt this at age five. Sam grew up in this life so it was in a sense, normal. It was no wonder Sam tried so hard to distance himself from this life at times in his life.

Words were exchanged and Sam apologized to him, so did Dean while explaining that he was in Purgatory himself. Sam tried to reassure Kevin but the kid rightfully didn't believe him. Kevin probably couldn't help himself but he asked about Cas which gained a curt response of didn't make it and how did he get out. That gained the same answer Sam did. A half truth of,  
“Had a bit of help.”

It was Kevin who asked who helped. Dean distracted him with more questions of what he's been doing and what he learnt since Dean was away. The boy reluctantly answered, though Dean could see the suspicion in his eyes. Dean didn't blame him.

The tense mood was only worsened when two more people entered the church. Demons.

After that things turned to chaos and Dean seemed to thrive in it while protecting Kevin and watching Sam's back. The first two demons were dispatched and that was when the upper hand of the situation was lost.

Crowley with some girl who was possessed entered. Dean frowned. He wondered if the Demon King knows about who else was back and what would happen with that situation. He kept quiet about that and instead offered sarcastic remarks instead. The outcome that night wasn't a good one, Kevin lost his girlfriend. The upside was at least Crowley got a shower with holy water.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm terribly sorry for this, this is a combination of the first three chapters of the story and Dean's POV of his return more or less and up to a point where I'm going to follow canon and then from here on out it'll be my own world you can say. Again I'm sorry, I know I'll probably annoy people for this, that isn't my intention. I just have a habit of doing this sometimes. Not with too many of my stories but there are a few from when I started to write fanfiction to now.
> 
> The pairing of this story is: Alastair/Dean/Crowley and I was informed in a review that Castiel should join that pairing. I haven't really made up my mind on that, perhaps it might be a one-sided Castiel/Dean but who knows because as it sits so far Cas isn't in the story yet so we'll see. Dean will be the 'bottom' you can say.
> 
> The next chapter will be featured in Crowley's POV more or less. So bare with me please.


	2. Enter Crowley

Needlessly said the scene in the church didn't go exactly as he planned because he was showered with holy water and was reminded that he may be the King of Hell but he was still a crossroad demon. That he still had weaknesses to deal with! He wasn't like some the oldest of demons like Lilith or Azazel or even Alastair for that matter. He was young compared to them. But old compared to your everyday black eyed demon stomping around like clumsy morons. 

It was pointless to say that Kevin Tran should count himself lucky that snapping his girlfriends neck was the only thing he decided to do. He could have done worse, he has done worse. A quick snap of the neck was merciful compared to what he can do. Crowley was by no means above torture, rape or any form of enforcement. He toyed with emotions and he toyed with weaknesses to exploit what he needs. He wasn't a demon for nothing. It wasn't to be cool or win any contest kids could come up with these days. He was a demon for a reason. 

The church scenario only came about because people he had watching over the little worm, Kevin Tran, were incompetent and Crowley was fooled. Tricked! And the boy went wondering off on his own in the big bad world. Really, the boy was supposed to be smart and yet made himself the worst kind of enemy to make. 

Sure Crowley had weaknesses like holy water, that knife Ruby gave to Sam and the Colt. But arrogance and over confidence wasn't one of his weaknesses. He knows better then to assume that his enemy no matter who they are, aren't a threat. It was what so many of his predecessors did with the Winchester boys. And look at where they were now. That was enough of a lesson to all the girls and boys what arrogance and overconfidence could do to you. 

Azazel didn't think that the trigger would be pulled, or that it could be pulled. That he would be killed. But he was and Dean foretold that event even before the night Mary Winchester was killed. Crowley remembers Azazel bragging to him the night they watched the house go up in flames after the deed was done. The yellow eyed demon in his confidence revealed a bit of information that made him keep a slight eye on the Winchester's from then on. And in the end, Dean's self spoken prophecy for Azazel's death came true. No more yellow eyed demon and unfortunately no one to have a decent conversation with regarding things that most demons don't really learn because it was generally above their pay grade. After all Azazel was high up on the payroll as well as a regular pillow talker and Crowley just happened to be good at talking. 

Lilith was a planned death, a sacrifice but even she overestimated herself in the fight against two humans who were gunning for her. If not for careful management from her personal girl toy and angel's poking their nose's around then she would have been taken care of long before her scheduled death and lo and behold no apocalypse. It didn't help that Crowley found that she too was a bit fun to play with and with careful wording he managed to get a bit of information out of her here and there. Though Crowley had to be careful, she was a bit of a loose canon at times. Not quite right in the head, but then what demon was? 

He didn't have to say much about Lucifer or his brother, their arrogance and assuming that the two human boys would fall in line and play along. They didn't despite the yes that Lucifer got out of the moose. It was all planned by a fool and a hopeless older brother. Crowley would love to be a fly on their wall with how they are dealing with their defeat by the hands of a hapless little human. 

The rest was an easy assumption. Big powers assuming they know it all and that everything was stalked in their favour. That nothing could go wrong because their way is the right way. Even Castiel fell prey to this stupid thinking. Crowley has not though, that much he was sure because he would rather overkill his enemy then waste a shot in arrogance. 

So maybe, just maybe he did have a humble bout of arrogance and a sure case of pettiness. He ensured that Dean Winchester and Castiel was pulled into Purgatory. Sam fell in line, Crowley knows what he would have done if the boy didn't. Dean would have been coming back to a grave rather then a sibling. And then Crowley would be forced to deal with the boy because Dean Winchester would have nothing to lose and would be after Crowley's skin. 

Lucky him though the moose was devastated and so wonderfully lost that he went and got himself a little lady and settled down until big brother came back to town. 

It begs the question though, how did Dean get out of Purgatory and where was his insane little treacherous angel? Crowley had special plans for that one, even carved out ways of torturing angels in his spare time by thinking over the sigils and how to bend those to his will. If he escaped Purgatory that is. 

It also raised the question of who may have gave the boy a helping hand. Crowley decided that he wanted to look into that, he never liked going into any situation without information and a plan with more then one exit route for him to take if need be. Crowley despised surprises, he didn't mind giving them though. 

But first he had a tablet he had to reacquire at some auction, not exactly Crowley's first choice in daily activities. But Crowley will play ball to for a while. In the mean time he decided to pick another side target. And after getting confronted by Kevin's mother dearest, he wanted so badly to do such unkind things to her he had to restrain himself although he did make it known what he would like to do to her corpse. They were rightfully disgusted and Crowley despite his annoyance was amused. The only thing that really saved them from any unkind reaction was the fact that the auction doesn't seem to be the place to give a show of violence. And Crowley can restrain himself. 

Target one though would be the tablet. Target two of his attention unattainable at the moment, the feisty little woman with secrets coming out of her that might be interesting for a brief moment. The third target for the day was none other then Dean Winchester. He was off from the last time he saw the boy. 

Crowley made sure to sit behind them during the action, sassing them when Crowley deems to be appropriate and at some point even getting into some foolish bidding against the foolish angel who was still wet behind the ears and didn't know the first thing about these sort of situations. The young angel seemed to be all heart though, offering his protection to Linda who foolishly turned him down. Not that it mattered to Crowley. 

His attention was torn between the auction and Dean who had a certain smell on him. Sulphur. But the boy wasn't demonic, not by a long shot. His soul still burned bright in that fleshy exterior of his. 

Linda bid her own soul, her everything because of her son not the tablet as much. Crowley didn't care, he put up a show of biding many more then that but had no intention of giving them because he knows it wouldn't be accepted. A sacrifice like hers would be more appealing then quantity. 

Crowley singled in on his own memory of what he was feeling on Dean in regards of a dark swirl of sulphur in his scent that was so subtle the young angel probably didn't even notice, if he cared to look for it at all. 

But that wouldn't be something that would happen willingly, would it? Dean wouldn't help his tormenter who tortured him for thirty years and then hallowed out the rest as Dean carved into other souls with a viciousness not many young demons can match. Crowley had to look into this because it might just create a mess he wasn't thrilled on cleaning up. 

Still Crowley couldn't help but mutter one word to himself and let the boy's paranoid ear pick it up and Crowley knows it would be bothering Dean for a little while. 

“Interesting.” 

And it was, despite the possible mess. To think that somehow Alastair defeated his own death by coming back with the help of his most prized student. And if not then who did come through with Dean. Crowley put on a slight show of being angry and frustrated as he stormed off. Instead of sticking around and going after the tablet Crowley was going to explore what information he can find and with a quick slip of a certain coin into a small spot on their belongings that is always carried inside of whatever dump they were staying at, Crowley can always track them down later and get that tablet back before any damage is done. 

And Kevin is a talker, he'll be filling them in on what he finds out so Crowley would know what they know. If something turns up that proves to be troublesome then Crowley will move his plans of regaining that slab of rock sooner rather then later. Crowley was just glad that he managed to find a way to get to their belongings, not too long ago they had wards up on the trunk to keep demons out but time must have caused those to fade just enough for Crowley to do what was necessary. 

As soon as he was at a distance from the auction house he summoned about four demons and informed them to keep an eye out for new demonic signs and demons that would require attention. Two of them were confused of course because they became demons after Alastair's reign as the Chief Torturer so they wouldn't have graced his rack's, instead of informing them of this Crowley only gave them a brief explanation and informed them to get a move on. The other two were older and had brief interaction and heard the stories so they had more of an idea of what to look for. Crowley saw them shiver lightly before disappearing from Crowley's sight. 

If that was a sign of how things were going to be then Crowley was not looking forward to any face to face confrontations with the said demon should he disagree on how things are done. But who knows, miracles can happen and the old demon wouldn't want Crowley's flesh spread out like a new tapestry of sorts. Or something more creative? 

In the meantime however, Crowley sat in his new modest mansion watching his television. Usually he would watch historical programs about wars, especially WW2 regarding the Nazis and more importantly Hitler. Crowley found that to be an interesting time for deal making. He liked to go down memory lane every so often due to his sentimental side. Today however he was looking at marketing numbers and making notes of who might be his next big client because this was how he singles in on some of his clients. The rest is information fed to him by his crossroad demons. 

On the table in front of him sat two identical phones, the only difference was colour and purpose. Both were on and Crowley was forever waiting for one to either ring from someone calling him or texting him. 

The white one was the one he used for human means. His lawyer because let's face it sometimes you needed to do things the legal way and Crowley did pay taxes so the lawyer helped with that. Crowley just didn't say that he can simply snap the money into existence because money was easy, why else would demons be invested in it? His new tailor, he was definitely keeping that young lad hidden because it was a pain to have the other one killed before his work was finished. It was actually very upsetting. And then his clients that was involved with successful novel writing. He was a literary agent who helps some writers get published for a nice fee. Sometimes because they were actually good or because he wanted to dumb down the public for kicks and people are very much effected by what they read these days just like they were so long ago. Today there was the magazines that focus on looks, demon owned in some cases. 

The black one was purely for his business as a demon. Electronics have proven to be a useful tool to say the least. Saves a lot of energy of having to search out people by hand when you can type a few things into Google or phone up contacts who knows what you're looking for. Others have touched on this handy tool as well, and in doing so made it easy for Crowley to contact them from his living room. And that was what he was waiting for. On the other hand he also used this phone to contact mob bosses that still function, the media was more quiet about his chosen ones because of a few strings pulled by Crowley. He could have taken their souls but they had more use alive and despite the backlash he received for that when Lilith was his boss it was worth it. 

Neither of his phone could be tracked or charged, but Crowley did in fact pay his white phone because he did see a reason for keeping a paper trail. It was more useful then not, he just didn't have to worry about it because he owned a few people on the other end of that trail. And so far no one has wised up to this or attempted to use it against Crowley. It helped that no one knows who this poor literary agent was, even Bobby who Crowley hinted who the vessel was didn't search for any information. If he did, it was destroyed along with everything else. 

Crowley doesn't require sleep and his vessel was maintained by him so it doesn't require it as well. Normally a demon wouldn't care all that much to tend to their vessel, but it wasn't impossible to keep a vessel more or less healthy it just took a lot of juice sometimes. So Crowley avoided sustaining injury if he can help it and that made things easy. Kind of like using one of the apple products without going on the net, the battery lasts longer. Crowley eyed the phones with impatience before pouring himself a glass of his favorite drink. Craig aged at least thirty years. There wasn't many drinks that was better then that. Crowley won't settle for the cheap stuff like others would, cheap was for quick and empty thrills that never last long and isn't enough to really sit back and enjoy to the last drop. 

Flipping the television off without moving he sat listening into annoying talk and bickering from the Winchester's and the Tran's while contemplating the situation he has fallen into. Somehow those idiots managed the impossible, escaped with both. And now they were discussing a plan that Crowley would have to be wary of and figure out a way to stop it. 

They wanted to close the gates for good. 

If that happened then everything would be ruined and Crowley would be forced back to Hell without a way to make deals of finalize some deals in the works. Not to mention it would leave Earth open to others he didn't want to share it with. Heaven for one. 

If Crowley was foolish, he would try to stop them now before too much of that tablet is translated, luckily humans need to eat and sleep so they weren't doing much translating now. And Crowley wasn't foolish so he was going to use that to his advantage. So far what they did find was nothing more then useless stuff everyone knows already. There was a way to lock the doors though, that much got the bunch happy. 

Crowley perks up a bit when the moose starts to question Dean about Purgatory and what went on there. So far Dean wasn't giving anything away. Just explaining how it was a constant fight and a lot of killing. Sam wanted more information on how he got out, Dean was tired and turned in. Crowley picked up the hesitant and shamed vibes in his words. There was more of course, Dean was human and no matter how much of a moron you can be human communication can be rather complicated with a lot of information in body language and words. 

There was room for Crowley to poke around if played carefully. Dean like some others can be considered a loose canon and a threat. Though he did have to note to himself that the elder Winchester had his own quality of being rather feisty that Crowley found amusing in some situations. The boy was good company given the right incentive and moods. 

Crowley notes that Sam hesitates a bit before turning in himself. Crowley could almost imagine the worn and angst in both boy's body language. 

Crowley was about to turn his attention back to his own thoughts and plans when the sound of a conversation between mother and son, they doubted their own safety around the Winchester. Kevin Tran was having a hard time trusting them after Sam left him to his own defences and Linda wasn't sure if she trusted them with her son. Crowley could only smile at the useful information he can use for later. And they both agreed that Dean being on edge was a bit unsettling. Guess they never dealt with anyone coming back from a war before. Crowley chuckled as he poured himself another glass. 

It wasn't until the noon the next day that his black phone came to life with a vibration that alerted the demon King. 

The conversation was between himself and one of the older demons he sent out. They have gathered in one place to discuss what they found out before Crowley was called. Their report was surprisingly detailed and sufficient enough to give him a good idea of who they were talking about and who it was exactly they found. Torture rooms that were makeshift was a sure giveaway and apparently one of the demons was nearly strapped to one of the roughly created rack. The whelp was lucky he escaped, or more correctly allowed to escape. It all confirmed who it was, white eyes and all. 

Alastair wasn't one to let his toys escape him without reason. 

It was a promise that he was there. Crowley frowned. What was Alastairs aim? Crowley couldn't even be sure if he knows whether or not the demon was into ruling, he seemed to be the one who was heavy into his work so perhaps not ruling. Just his research and projects. That could play into Crowley's favour if played right. 

Still it left a lot of new situations to be dealt with. With an order he hung up. They weren't to get involved with Alastair but keep an eye on him as best that they could. So far Alastair was busy in a restaurant eating with no intention to pay no doubt. 

Crowley checked up on the Winchester's and they were still at the location his nifty little tracking device informed him of and Crowley dialled Dean's personal phone number. The temptation to mess around with the eldest Winchester was too good to pass up. If he was lucky he might put enough doubt into the boy that would slow them down slightly. If not then he would do nothing but anger him. Crowley would have to trend carefully then but it wasn't a situation that he couldn't manage. 

One ring. Two ring. By the third Crowley got an answer, and by the gruff 'ya' the boy wasn't aware of who was phoning him and in turn didn't give away who he was. It was a hunter thing Crowley figured, not that he called many hunters. It wasn't his thing and he didn't normally like dealing with them. They were crude and annoying pests. Still when it's required it was down to the whole 'the enemy of my enemy' thing and he was willing to play ball. 

“It was a bit of a surprise that you're back from Purgatory darling, it's quite another to get some news of a sighting of a particular demon that was killed by your moose.” Crowley said, giving some of what he knows away. It wasn't something he liked to do, but sometimes it gets you interesting things in return. And Crowley was confident that this time would be no different so his confidence no doubt showed in his voice, like it usually does when Crowley knows what he's doing and he doesn't have to play the part of someone who's arrogant and knocked down a peg. 

“Sightings can be wrong, why would I bring anything back with me from Purgatory.” Dean's voice answered back, quiet and not as loud as Crowley figured it might have been. Told him one thing, the boy was within hearing range and Crowley couldn't help but smirk and wonder what kind of argument this might cause. However he knows it won't because Dean despite everything wasn't fully stupid, a moron still but not quite stupid. 

Crowley picked up the faint sound of someone walking, he knows that Dean was distancing himself so the conversation might just get more interesting yet. 

“Could be, but isn't. My boys have a keen sense of anything supernatural and this wasn't human and some of my older boys recognize an old face when they see one. Care to tell me why or should I ask Sam?” Crowley acknowledged, and no doubt causing Dean to experience some level of anger. In fact Crowley can guarantee it because both Winchester's had anger issues, Sam had the more of an outburst when it comes to his temper if pushed the right way. Dean internalizes his at times unless it regards his younger brother, then the metaphor 'all hell breaks loose' can be used. It was quite touching actually. 

Silence. The boy was actually going to try to use his head and think about what he might want to say next. Crowley was amused. 

“If you think you know so much, why didn't you talk to me about this at the auction where you lost by the way. We have the tablet and the prophet.” Dean finally said and Crowley couldn't help but pick the words apart and a smile formed. He was practically gifted a way to mess around with what Dean was saying. Look for loopholes and twist some things around. 

Crowley knows that the boy didn't mean to refer to Kevin as a mere Prophet. But Crowley wasn't above poking at that. 

“Funny how you dehumanized the boy.” Crowley pointed out while he could just picture the wince he might have earned for that statement, he couldn't be entirely sure but it was a fun image to think of. 

“Fuck you.” Dean snaps and Crowley smirks. He couldn't help but smirk. 

“Later, and you don't think that I don't know exactly where you are at this moment and what you and your marry little band is up to?” Crowley taunted, hinting at the fact that Crowley was listening in and knows instantly that he probably shouldn't have. Crowley made note that as soon as he hangs up he was going to gather some of the boys and girls to go fetch for him. Send about three hounds, not his as well. Those were hard to kill. 

“No, what are we up to Crowley.” Dean said, no doubt poking for information himself. Crowley smirks at that but still had every intention of taking back a tablet or Prophet. Who knows he might get both. 

“You're having that boy look for information using that tablet, I can tell you right now that you won't find anything interesting.” Crowley stated and misdirected in a way that might just be useful. Crowley was no fool so he will find strengths to use for himself. He didn't make it to where he was by chance only. 

“Who's to say, might find something that can help us against you.” Dean said, the boy's letting his own confidence show. Crowley had the urge of breaking that confidence out of him right then and there. But he refrained from that urge and simply counted to three. 

“And your late master. Would you risk that as well, how did you feel when Sam killed him.” Crowley calmly said while a sneer crossed his face as he waited for a reply. He didn't get one right away. There was no movement on the other end of the phone and Crowley could almost hear the confidence leak out of him. Who would have thought that he could still have what he wants to some extent, just not as physical as he might have originally wanted it to be. 

“Happy.” Dean answered, it was a lie of course. Crowley knows that Dean spent forty years with Alastair and Alastair in his own twisted way gave Dean everything the boy could have ever wanted in life. Praise. Not abandoning him like family and friends have done time and time again. None of that was small time stuff, Crowley knows this. 

And Crowley lets Dean know this with a calm and amused reply of,   
“I'm sure, forty years are a long time love.” 

It was Dean who hung up, not Crowley. With a smirk Crowley spread the word of what he wanted now. It won't be too long until he shakes the nest those four made for themselves at the cabin. 

Just as Crowley sat back a knock on his door caught his attention, with a frown he cautiously moves to check who it was.


	3. Enter Alastair

To be Righteous is to be morally right or justifiable, to be virtuous. 

Alastair may or may not have been his first name, he can't remember exactly what he was called. It didn't matter all that much, all he knows was that when he was alive, when he was human he was considered to be an Executioner. It was back when religions were starting to form and Christianity was starting to become a religion that will swallow up parts of other religions and overtake populations in it's stead fast growth. 

He was alive when a boy grew to be a carpenter and then became a symbol and a figure that will be idolized for centuries to come. His form, his body will be carved into and forever be put with the cross. 

Alastair was just a young boy himself when he started to learn about being an executioner. Alastair had no family, his family has been killed by executioner's for crimes that they have done against innocents and the growing church. Alastair had no where else to go, that much he remembered. And he was angry for that but he felt that his anger was in fact justified. So he decided that he would take on the job of being an executioner to persuade others into doing the right thing, to not cross paths with the law. His goals were righteous. He was righteous. Told so by his teacher's. 

And then, then one day when Alastair was cleaning the tools that were used that day a man came to him. Spoke softly and kind. Alastair who was only fourteen himself found himself to be enthralled by the man's words when he spoke. And when Alastair replied to what he was saying and explained things and goals the man listened as though Alastair's words were important. 

And they were! 

The man offered him a way to use his growing skills to their fullest capability and to teach those who do not follow the right path a lesson. To learn, to teach and to strive for bigger and better. He was offered the freedom to do what he believes to be right. And by his will they are right because he was righteous and his methods were a necessary evil from what he has learnt from his teachers. 

He was asked what he wanted, the man considered him important enough to ask what he wanted. 

Alastair remembered he replied,   
“I want to do what my teachers do, I want to punish the guilty and show the innocent that they shouldn't go down that road because they can cause other boys and girls to lose their family so soon.” 

He wanted to fix things. He was righteous, that was what righteous people did, fix things even if it was using drastic methods. 

The man offered his hand and a way to do just that. He was offered power, a way to teach those who deserve it a lesson. He was offered the tools and the abilities to do just that. 

Alastair took it. 

It turned out that the one doing the offering was none other then Lucifer himself, before he was forever locked in a cage. Alastair was hand chosen to be someone in his ranks. Alastair was horrified at the deception and over years on the racks his eyes were opened and he knows that he was right to take that hand. That this was the best route to take. He was right to be in this line of work because in it's twisted nature there was righteousness to be found every so often. Whether it was in the wail of a mother or the pleading of a boy who befell him. 

Over the years, Alastair became one of the best demons in his business. It helped that he grew up in a sense on the rack and learning. Forever learning, he liked to learn. Alastair didn't care if the knowledge was from books or carved out of anyone who was in front of him and he had his fair share of scholars and religious folks on his racks. Alastair was also into and curious about a lot of things that you can very well find in libraries. He liked to learn, study things about the body and the mind. About science and religions. You name it Alastair has probably pried the knowledge out of someone or read about it. 

And the worst thing was, he put his knowledge to the test, whether it was on human souls forever twisting them to become demons or nothing but useless waste to be hung up on show or demons who step out of line and require a bit of teaching. Alastair was happy to be the one to do the teaching. 

He was hand picked for this. And Alastair excelled at it. 

Over the years Alastair became well known for his sadism and young demons quivered in fear as they neared him. He also disturbed them because he preferred to be in Hell rather then Earth. He practically grew up here unlike most of the young demons he has to put up with every now and again. Most won't remember that, they will however remember Earth and want to be there. 

There were few who could stand to be in his presence and not let their fear or anxiety take over. Lilith was one of the few, Azazel was another. Both of them had their uses and entertainment, but for the most part Alastair preferred to be left be so he could keep to his studies. His work was important. 

During his time as the Chief Torturer, a title he quickly gained for himself after being broken and twisted and taught how things should be done and when he woke up to how he should be. It was seen as a gift and he was hand chosen for this job. Eventually along the way he learnt that his name was apart of the religion he that boy who grew to be a carpenter and then a symbol. He wasn't even considered to be human but a fallen. That was a joke right there. Or at least Alastair thought so, he let people think what they wanted though it wasn't all that much of a concern to him. 

He was a righteous man when he was alive and human. 

He was a Chief Torturer now and he was good at his job. He loved it. And sought to gain as much pain as he could from those who required his blade. 

Over time he has seen many come and many go regarding his rack. 

One John Winchester who stayed an impressive hundred years and from him he learnt about someone far more interesting if Alastair had to admit to himself. And by orders he was to break a righteous man, John Winchester didn't have the right stuff and so Alastair barely put much effort in torturing him. Just played pretty much and gained what knowledge of hunting and his eldest son he can. 

Lilith wasn't impressed, she wanted him broken fifty years before that hundred mark. She wanted the first seal to be broken because she so desperately wanted the head boss to rise up again. Alastair was just interested in his job, but he understood the importance and so he cut and he cut and eventually grew bored and left the Winchester unattended and unrestrained. Let him escape at the exact same time Azazel opened that wonderful door.

Lilith was far from happy. Lucky for them, they had another Winchester coming. Alastair's curiosity would be scratched and he would see if this boy was as righteous as Alastair was considered to be. And he certainly was a looker, feisty as well. He must have gained that from his father, at least when it comes to being feisty. John Winchester wasn't that much of a looker, his insides were even boring. 

Dean Winchester on the other hand, feisty with so much angst and problems was the perfect specimen to cut into. To break and mold and learn about everything that made the boy tick. Alastair deemed this one to be only his, yes he let his students practice on him in the beginning to warm him up and introduce him to Hell. But after a year of that, it was only Alastair and Dean. And the boy truly was righteous! The sorry thing sold his soul for a cheap deal in order to save his baby brother. 

The boy had self esteem issues, abandonment issues and seemed to have sought out praise or even something as simple as support but has never gained what the poor thing required. 

It only took thirty years to break him, but that wasn't the interesting bit. No Alastair took a bit of a chance and offered him the knife for real this time, not just a ploy or a way to get Dean to give up. And to make matters interesting, Dean took the knife from his hands and Alastair supported him to make sure the boy doesn't fall. Yes Alastair was aware of the seal but originally after the seal Alastair had intentions of putting the boy back on the rack until he became a demon completely. Normally Alastair doesn't take people off until they were demons and had nothing but those wonderful little demonic qualities left. Most don't even remember being human. 

Afterwards they go off on their own, other older demons tend to take them under their wing only a few get taken in by Alastair and sometimes it's only by the request of an older demon like Azazel did with his makeshift daughter. 

For ten years Alastair had the pleasure of surprising people with the fact that he hand picked a student rather then having students assigned to him. And Alastair rather enjoyed his hand picked student in every way. He loved to watch the growing skills in the boy, though some if not most of his skills were already there but it was only now that he had the permission to use them. He loved to watch the boy fall apart in every way. Pain. Pleasure. Anger. Glee. His student was learning the beauty of every one of those and by the ninth year he was going down on Alastair on his own will and pleasure. Alastair let him too because he wasn't one to not enjoy the fruits of his labour. 

Sex. Pain. Torture. Pleasure. All four of those were the main standing points of his life with his most favoured student. 

Then the angels came! Alastair remembered the rage he felt, it wasn't an anger he felt in such a long time and for once Alastair didn't allow himself to enjoy it. They came and they took Dean away and Alastair couldn't do a thing because he was outnumbered. And his possessive side told him to not let the boy go, but he had to. There was obvious use the fanatical pricks needed from his boy. 

The next time he saw his boy was in that church while he was wearing the pediatrician who won't be missed in Alastair's opinion. The man was married to his work. And Alastair can understand that, he himself was married to his. Dean was so surprised to see him, and Sam the boy wonder that everyone is raving about is nothing special to Alastair. Just a means to an end. But his boy, despite the taint of grace and pesky morals is worth something to Alastair. 

Dean was Alastair's property! His student. A prodigy in torture. And Alastair wasn't entirely fond that someone decided to just up and take what belongs to him. He truly did want to take the boy back and get ride of that horrible stench of angel and the rot that is humanity. But of course that didn't happen. Every time Alastair thought he might get a few moments to himself or be done with the whole angel business or seal business he was being called out. There were a few demons who got a lesson of why you don't mock Alastair when he was in a bad mood, apparently they found it funny that he was being put to work. Fools. And even after he got the pediatrician destroyed when that angel girl got her grace back he was forced to find a new vessel. 

Though that was where things got a bit interesting. 

The vessel he used next was a nobody as usual, and homeless. Alastair had to fix him up and the man fixed up quite nicely. His mind was screaming of agony as Alastair brutally killed off all awareness and sense of self. It was an interesting experiment to say the least, he hasn't taken the time before to carve someone out from the inside out. 

The reaper seal wasn't all that interesting, it was rather boring actually. However his student and the boy king showed up in spirit form's and that was when things took a turn for the interesting. The false bravado Dean was giving off was rather cute but something that had to be cut away again. And Alastair would love to be the one to do the cutting. 

There was a preplanned capture scheduled and it went down without much problem which he could say is a relief considering how things have been going lately. But angels despite being fanatical pricks were punctual if nothing else. And Uriel was in bed with them you could say. And that led to the most interesting of situations. 

His boy was the one sent in to torture him and find out who's been killing the angels. It was a fun reunion to say the least and the boy's skill was still there but a little unrefined from having his morals put back in place. But the thing, the person he carved Dean into was still there just underneath the skin and morals. His student was still in there. 

That was where things gone downhill. And Alastair's own arrogance played a part in it. Alastair got out like planned, beat his boy lovingly and was about to kill him and send his soul home in order to fix the sloppy mess the angels made of it when first the angel who stole Dean intervened and Alastair was about to send him back to Heaven where he belongs rather then here in Alastair's presence when the boy king intervened. 

Alastair at first didn't think he was strong enough to kill him. 

But he was wrong! Boy was he wrong. Alastair was killed and sent to Purgatory because he wasn't human anymore. He was a demon and demons are more like ghosts then they are spirits. They were just a high grade powerful kind that were their own species rather then hapless ghosts. And ghosts are sent to Purgatory when dispatched by hunters rather then passing over like normal. The funny thing was ghosts can ascend or descend over a certain time because they are as close to human as you can get in Purgatory. That was until Dean showed up after many years. 

Dean and the angel who left him nearly as soon as they got there. Some twisted form of protecting the boy, the angel really had no idea of what it meant to protect in this place. Dean would be targeted just for being human, by everything. Leviathans would sure to follow soon enough if Dean stayed in one place long enough. Those vermin remembered who exactly put them back here. They didn't bother demons and demons didn't bother them. In fact the low number of demons tend to just remain in one area, the oldest tend to sink into the surroundings and cease to exist if not careful. 

Alastair kept busy, kept his mind busy and learnt a lot of new things while in Purgatory. One he was in his true form you can say. Sometimes as nothing more then a black cloud and other times like how he appeared in Hell. An intimidating form that had lesser beings running and Lilith playing with his horns that curved over his head at an impressive length. 

Dean was captured as was his new friend in Purgatory. A vampire who went by the name Benny Lafitte a former pirate and he died temporarily on a makeshift rack built from the tree's Alastair lovingly cut down and broken into the form he needed them to be. His last words were cursing Dean out. Nothing in Purgatory stayed dead, so eventually like in Hell he'll wake up and it'll start again. Alastair would have loved to stay and see if he can make a demon out of a vampire in a place like Purgatory but one must always put standards and goals in front of you. 

And from Benny Alastair learnt of a way to get out, kept that part secret. And Dean well he was desperate to get out so he was willing to work with Alastair to get out and in return bring Alastair with him. The boy was so determined on the fact that his brother would be there waiting, however Alastair knew better because why would the whelp wait when he didn't fight or search for very long when Dean was literally torn apart in front of him and then dragged to Hell where Dean met him and they became quite the duo. 

The boy however did not listen to reason no matter how many times Alastair put him on his ass in order to force him to listen. Dean was like a bull dog with a bone when it comes to his little brother. It was almost sad to see, and Alastair was disappointed that he wouldn't be able to witness Dean learning the truth when they get out. 

Somewhere along the way they met up with that angel again and Dean was adamant that Castiel travelled with them and the backwards prick actually tried to get Alastair to leave, not physically more like tried to will him to leave. Dean became the peacekeeper between them and doing the impossible between an angel and a demon and keeping the peace. Alastair let him, so did Castiel. It also helped that he has yet to tell Dean exactly how they were getting out. 

And Alastair kept that to himself right up to the last day. It turns out Castiel never planned on leaving with Dean and was reluctant to leave him alone with Alastair. Guilt did funny things to you, and it made you do stupid things. Like agree to let Dean go with Alastair, even though Dean will remember it differently. Alastair kind of helped that guilt though, when Dean slept. 

With a spell that he acquired from the friendly vampire Alastair was able to hide in Dean's arm and escaped while the angel was left behind. Whether or not the said angel regretted his decision of staying behind for penance and guilt was beyond even Alastair. But he was out and he didn't care about the angel. He was out and that was all that mattered at the moment. The rest will come soon enough. 

Dean reunited him with his last and perhaps most meaningful meat suite. The nobody who was homeless and brain dead by the time Alastair was through with him. 

A few interesting words later he went his own way and Dean went his. Alastair knows for a fact that this separation won't remain permanent because he had every intention of tracking Dean down later. Right now he had to investigate for himself to see what has happened since he was gone. 

He cleaned himself up again and didn't pay for a thing, he was a bit selfish like that. Ate in a restaurant before taking care of a few things topside and reacquainted himself with the fine skill of torture on humans he decided that they required his personal attention whether they deserved it or not was unimportant. They were rude and Alastair found them repulsive. Lucky for them their innards were more attractive to look at. 

He was found out by demons, no doubt reporting to their master and Alastair allowed them. Crowley took up the rank that didn't really exist officially until now. The so called King of Hell. Alastair never cared for the worm, but he didn't care for the title either. His main concern was his workroom and his studies. And then there was the little problem of getting his prized student back. Alastair viewed himself to be a fair and a genuine demon given the right incentives. 

Sometimes it was more useful to talk then to knock someone down a few sizes in ego. He did so with Uriel and it at least proved a bit useful despite him being killed off by the whelp of a little brother to his boy. But if things don't go in the way Alastair would want it to, then Lucky the Leprechaun might not be so lucky after all. And Alastair didn't have as many weaknesses as a mere crossroad demon had no matter his title. 

Tracking the King of Hell down was actually more difficult then he would have liked, but he managed it after a few shattered demons were left behind, not the ones sent after him. Personal servants who dealt with small time business for the demon. Alastair eyed the surroundings with a cold calculating eye. Crowley certainly did like his creature comforts. Always did which was completely opposite to Alastair who to this day still preferred Hell over Earth. 

Without any more hesitation, considering that wasn't his thing to begin with, Alastair approached the front door. Bold perhaps but it was to a point and proved a point that he was here to talk. Alastair would have slipped in through the side and caught whoever he was after by surprise. Unless a special occasion required him to be more bold then sneaky. His student seemed to be special enough to knock on the front door, but that was something Alastair couldn't have the pleasure of doing. 

With a confident knock Alastair waited until Crowley answered the door himself, Alastair was almost shocked by that but said nothing about the matter. Instead he offered a cold smile, he didn't do kind. Crowley seemed honestly shocked at the sight of him. No words were exchanged for a good five minutes, they were testing the intentions of each other and perhaps a bit of shock still on Crowley's part. 

“Well are you going to let me in?” Alastair finally said and watched the disapproving frown that quickly disappeared behind a fixed grin that was forever used for business as he was welcomed into the house and showed to the living room. Alastair examined his surroundings as he walked, turned down a drink and sat on a rather comfortable chair. The fire was going and he relished the heat from that but it still wasn't enough to ignore the cold Earth seems to keep attached to it. 

Crowley was the first to speak after he sat down with a drink, Alastair noted two phones on the coffee table. If anything Crowley was organized. Alastair was quite sure that Crowley has a touch of OCD to him. 

“I didn't think demons could come back to life.” Crowley's first words are spoken in the form of conversation and digging, not yet showing any sign of aggression or seeking a dominant standing in this situation. Alastair lets it go because he was here to converse as well and if cutting needed to be done, well Alastair was always up to doing things until the end. A job well done was important and it was best to see it to the end. 

“It was a risk I was willing to take and I wasn't disappointed.” Alastair calmly replied, he shouldn't have to say who helped him through. That much would be obvious enough that a daft child could know. So no explanation of how was in order and above all else it wasn't going to be given without a good reason or persuasion. 

Alastair smiled before pushing the conversation towards what he was most curious about. His workshop. His studies. What Hell was like now that an OCD demon took over. And he wasn't entirely fond of what he was getting for answers. It made him remember that he had a wonderful shaving razor tucked away in his pocket and it was just sharpened. 

But Crowley seemed to soothe the annoyance and the anger with well placed words and bringing up Dean. Crowley hinted that he was more then willing to allow Alastair to take control of his area of expertise again and he would no doubt be able to replace and redo whatever he needed to fix. 

Alastair was still very much annoyed but he leaned back in the chair because there was other promises and offers that caught his attention as well. 

“I'm listening.” Alastair said as he eyed Crowley coldly. Crowley in turn let out a smug smirk and launched into what was needed to be said, all woven to entice and Alastair was adding points in so Crowley can't have so many loopholes to slip through. Alastair was no fool, he has been around longer then Crowley can ever dream of.


	4. Store Meetings

It has been a total of two days since the mess at the auction house and they still haven't gotten very far, the house was divided in some ways and it felt like it was divided in three ways. The Trans, Sam and himself. Tension could be cut with a finely sharpened razor. 

And the phone call he had came to mind. Dean wasn't sure what to think with the conversation he had with Crowley. One thing was for sure, he didn't bring it up to Sam or even give him an explanation on why Dean seemed to be so caught up with the fact that he had to check the defences up. If the conversation just happened to have come up, Dean would have just passed it off the fact that he was used to having to remain on guard from his time in Purgatory. Which wasn't entirely false, in fact he had no rest because of his enemies around him and an enemy who was his company. Dean found that he couldn't bare mentioning to Sam about the conversation with Crowley because of the content of the conversation. 

Alastair was brought up. His time in Hell was brought up, hinted that Crowley might know something that he might be able to use against Dean. Dean knows that this could be a bit of paranoia but do you blame him, dealing with demons like Crowley you have to come to the table suspicious of every word. 

So it went without saying that Dean was actually grateful that Sam didn't bring up the fact that Dean insisted on checking the perimeter and was bothered by the time he got back. For a time afterwards he was distant from them, trying to regain and hold everything in. Not an easy thing to do when everything wanted to pour out and corrupt everything Dean was trying to keep safe. 

Since then they were forced to move from the secluded location they were using and relocate to a run down building in a part of the closes city where the traffic isn't heavy with cars or pedestrians, so it was easy to make sure that no one would sneak up on them. Dean was searching their belongings for anything that might have allowed Crowley to overhear the conversations between Dean and everyone else. Not to mention how else would Crowley know exactly where they were even before he spoke to Dean on the phone? It wasn't a long shot that Crowley most likely knows where they are now, but the building allowed for better protection so Dean could relax a bit. And when he finds the stupid thing then he can relocate it to somewhere else. 

He should tell Sam, tell someone but he couldn't bring himself to say anything about it. Perhaps because he was hiding the phone call, and Dean knows that this was awfully stupid of him. It would divide an already divided house and cause more stress. But Dean just couldn't utter a single word, maybe Sam or someone would find it and Dean wouldn't have to say a word about it. 

Sam was grouchy about the move as well as being pulled back into a life he clearly thinks hes too good for now or perhaps he truly was too broken to hunt the things that break everything else in the world. And when Sam didn't think Dean was paying attention he phoned his girlfriend and grouched at her about things without actually giving away anything. Turns out she wasn't entirely supportive of the mess that Dean pulled Sam into. Dean felt anger curl around in him at that, did she not understand the situation here? Did she not know the trouble that they were facing and yet she cursed Sam out for it! 

Linda has warmed up to him again, turns out helping them escape not one but two nasty situations won her over. Sort of. It eased some of the stress on the place. But there was still stress from unresolved arguments between Dean and his brother. They avoided speaking about it though and Dean made it clear that he wasn't speaking about Purgatory either. 

He did tell Sam that it was like war over there. A constant battle against everything they have ever hunted here on Earth, and there was a lot of them that Dean put there himself so a price was on his head. They spoke a bit about Castiel and Dean refused to speak about who helped him. How could he tell Sam that 'hey guess what, you know that demon you killed called Alastair. I got help from him and now he is topside'. That is one conversation that won't go over well. 

“We need food supplies...” Sam stated, strained and stressed but trying. Dean put up a fuss about it, but Sam brought up the point that he was doing research and both Trans can't go out because they are target number one. A few more back and forth snarks and bites before Dean was the one stuck going out. Linda automatically put her opinion out in the open, but was reminded that the argument of why they can't was already had. 

Dean had to walk, the Impala was tucked away in the garage of the place they were using at the moment. Safe and sound. He wasn't entirely happy about it, but he understood and at least he can get the right pie. He also had a list from Linda about what they needed and Dean wasn't entirely happy with how much healthy food there was. Dean had to make sure they had enough cash first, if not then a few green's would be left behind. He's not sacrificing pie because he didn't get to eat it in quite some time. First with the whole Leviathan mess and then Purgatory. So Dean decided he has waited long enough for pie. 

In the end Dean cursed the store and found that going up and down the different aisles and found that this was a lot harder then he remembered it to be. And Dean couldn't even understand fully on why it was hard. He saw products he didn't remember being there before. How much new stuff did they make up while he was gone! It was stressful to say the least and Dean must have had that look in his eye, a vacant one that had a person who works at the store take pity on him and offered her assistance. Rebecca was what her name was according to her name tag. 

At this point he was too stressed so he could only offer a forced smile in return. Not his usual wit and charm that could get him what he wants. 

“How long?” Rebecca asked, her perky personality was enough to keep him from getting overly stressed and annoyed. Dean found that he really wasn't cut out for this sort of thing anymore, did he lose this part of himself in Hell or Purgatory? It was hard to decide. 

“What?” Dean asked after a bit as she walked through the aisles with him putting things in the cart that he didn't care for. Too many healthy stuff in his opinion and he still had to get himself some pie. 

“Did you serve? You remind me of my brother who served up until he was sent back and was killed by a roadside bomb?” Rebecca clarified and Dean could see her pain and winced at it. Though he didn't know if that wince was genuine or skin deep. She obviously thought that he was a soldier of sorts, maybe it fit in a way. But he wasn't a soldier she would have figured him to be, his Dad was a soldier. If she knew just an ounce about Dean then she would be trying to get as far away from him as she can. 

Dean must have taken too long to answer, she had a look of guilt on her face and Dean forced a smile to reassure her. 

“Sorry to hear about your brother... I, uh, served for about four months at one point and then a year. Recently. I uh haven't been in long and at the same time it feels like that's always been what I've been doing...” Dean answered and shockingly enough it wasn't really all that far from the truth. He just left out the bits about demons and monsters that kill humans and innocents. And truth was, Dean didn't even know if he got his explanation right. He wasn't your legit soldier who fights for the country. 

“It ge...” Rebecca started and Dean felt his a rock settle in his stomach because he had a good idea what she was going to say. 

“Where's the pie?” Dean cut her off, not really looking for her sympathy or words of advice on his pain and his troubles. He could feel anger at the back of his throat because of her concern and that wasn't fair for her. She was only trying to help. She led him to the pies and that was when she ended up chuckling, turns out he made it obvious on how much he likes pies. He thanked her as best that he can while deciding which pie he should pick. 

He barely noticed her leave before a different set of footsteps caught his attention and his instincts sharpened as he stiffened. Turning around and ready to fight he recoiled when a young man recoiled as well, probably because of something he saw in Dean's eyes. Dean felt instant shame as he put the first pie he grabbed into the cart and sped walked towards the check out. For a second he thought he picked up the distinct smell of sulphur. 

Cursing himself he set everything up on the grocery conveyer belt at the check out where the same young lady called Rebecca was now working, no doubt giving another worker a lunch break. Dean greeted her with a strained smile. The pie was still in the cart when he noticed someone in the corner of his eye, wearing all black. 

Crowley! 

Dean knew his instincts weren't fooling him after all. He wouldn't be surprised if the young man was a demon himself. 

“Are you okay?” Rebecca asked, concern written in her voice and in her face. Dean hated it! 

“Fine.” Dean snapped as he quickly paid, forgetting the pie and taking off from the store. Fleeing and cursing his cowardice, he knows he shouldn't be going back right away. Though Dean figures that he probably already knows where they were staying. Dean didn't even make it to the end of the building before he hears his name being called. Dean finds himself stopping against his will, obeying the tone rather then his name being called. 

Dean stiffened before forcing himself to relax enough to turn around and regard Crowley with a harsh glare. He didn't want to put up with this shit and this was just another conversation that will no doubt weigh on him. Dean doesn't need any more weight on his shoulders, he already deals with enough! Like knowing his former teacher was somewhere cutting some innocent fool up. How can he sleep at night knowing this! 

Dean hated the smug look that he got from Crowley as the demon approached and Dean noticed the pie in his possession. Dean frowns at that. What was the purpose of buying a pie when for all purposes Crowley doesn't require food and unlike other demons he had to work with didn't show a desire to eat or reacquaint himself with human things like food. Yet at the same time he seemed to be someone who liked nice material things. 

“Wouldn't have pegged you as someone who likes sweets.” Dean forces out, a mock version of civilized conversation being made. Though it fails to get a negative response, and for some reason Dean wanted to make the demon as annoyed as he felt at the moment. Not very bright and certainly very foolish, but Dean was at a point in his own mood where his ability to care about that fact was nearly nonexistent unless it had to do with Sam's safety. 

“Plenty you don't know about me, I do like the odd sweet thing here and there.” Crowley answered as he stopped a few feet away from Dean. Dean kept his mind on his surroundings while keeping his eye on Crowley, he can never really trust what Crowley was up to. The fact that Dean didn't know a lot about Crowley was true but it wasn't like he was striving to know who the demon was or is in the first place. 

A loud bang was heard, drawing Dean's attention from Crowley to that direction. Gunshot? No it was a blown out tire, Dean has heard that sound many times before to figure it out. Unfortunately the second he took his eyes off Crowley it gave the demon a chance to do what he was there to do. Without much of a chance to react Dean was shoved into the alleyway next to the grocery store and practically dragged no matter how much he struggled. The bags came close to being dropped on the ground several times, Dean held onto them because he knows that Sam and the others need the food. His instincts as an older brother, a provider kept him from dropping them despite the fact that he was manhandled into a part of the alleyway behind the store by Crowley. 

They could have disappeared, Crowley had that ability but it would appear that Crowley wasn't prepared to taking that step at this point. Dean glared and spat out curses. 

“Sorry love, had to take you out of sight. We have to talk and I don't want little ease droppers listening into business that is no concern to them. I have a confidential belief between myself and those seeking deals.” Crowley calmly explained while not leaving much personal space for either of them. Getting up and close with Dean on purpose. Dean felt uncomfortable with it, it was a clear dominating act and Dean was pushed into a less then dominant position as he stood with his back to the wall and Crowley having most if not all the footing in this situation. 

Dean drops the instinct to provide for his brother and the other two back at their current location and drops the bags on either side of him. His hands in instant fists and fully ready to be used. He only had one of his usual weapons, it wasn't the colt because they had to acquire more bullets. Tucked inside of his jacket was a freshly sharpened and cleaned demon killing knife. 

“Funny, I'm not looking to deal Crowley. So you're wasting your time.” Dean hissed out, anger clearly coursing through his veins now because he wasn't entirely pleased with the situation he was pushed into. Though at the same time, Dean felt exhilarated by it. He unfortunately had a thing about taking on demons, killing them or forcing them to leave the vessel they took over. Dean also found that he was damn good at the hunt and was damn good at the killing aspect of it. Over the years it started out as 'hunting things, saving people' and eventually evolved to 'hunting things, killing things and then saving people' and for Dean the 'saving people' part somehow was dropped even though Dean always tried to save as many people as he could. It was the job. 

During the apocalypse it was his job, his purpose. He felt like he was the one who had to save everyone and if he can't then no one else can. He was led to believe this and he did in fact believe it. In the end it was his brother who saved everyone, even took his mind back from Lucifer to do it. And that was no small feat. But then Sam always had his own mind to begin with. 

During the civil war in Heaven, Dean's purpose went from that to being his soulless brother's morals and he was in other words a pawn to be used by none other then Crowley and of all people Castiel. To hunt down alpha's, despite how good soulless Sam was at it. Dean was pretty damn good at it as well. If not for the betrayals, Dean would have sworn that he thrived on the entire situation. 

The hunt. The kill. The challenge. 

Alastair and him had so many conversations about this, he was even told that Earth was finishing up the job Alastair started. His reaction to that, absolute defiance and fighting him about it. It ended with Dean knocked on his ass again and panting as Alastair enforced his superior status over Dean again and again and again. Physically, sexually and it always left Dean angry and hungry for more. Dean would forever curse Alastair for that! 

And yet here he was again, being pushed out of a dominant position by another demon. By none other then the King of Hell himself. Dean glared angrily as his hand shot for the blade in his jacket and yanking the blade out and slashing at Crowley in one swift movement. Crowley obviously didn't expect or think too kindly by the gesture if the flash of red eyes was any indication. It was extremely rare that Crowley gave away the fact that he was a demon when it regards the whole eye thing they can do. But since he came back from Purgatory it wasn't unheard of. He saw the flash of read for a second at the auction. 

The dodge was barely there, a cut in the suite and the angry glow and red from where the knife nicked showed that his blade made contact with the damned demon. His first move was a bust, it was Crowley's chance to react and Dean knows this, his anger foolishly fooled an instant reaction. He shouldn't be making mistakes like this, it was liable to get himself or worse Sammy killed. 

A hand shot out and gripped his wrist in a bruising hold and held Dean's arm against his chest and the blade twisted around enough to nearly touch his throat. Crowley was putting his weight into holding Dean in a firm hold against the building. Dean cursed his luck and his situation. This situation should not have happened in the first place! His Dad would be rolling around in his grave, if he had one. Sam would be upset or perhaps rightfully ashamed of his big brothers mistakes. Perhaps even angry. 

Linda and her son wouldn't understand things fully, they both don't know this world as Dean does. They only started to scratch the surface. 

Dean stared defiantly at Crowley who was now face to face with him, not much space between them now and he could pick up that faint scent of sulphur that gave away what Crowley was. Sulphur and heat. The glare he was getting from Crowley was absolutely frigid. Dean made eye contact and refused to back down, it wasn't in his nature. He used to do the same thing in Hell though, even when cowed down and obedient to Alastair he was still defiant especially when he wanted his demon master's attention. 

Crowley must have seen something of this in him, because the frigid look warmed up to a smug one that had Dean seething. 

“Needy?” Crowley almost purred before getting serious as he took a few steps away from Dean, making sure no retaliation could be taken on Dean's part. Dean just straightened himself out and kept a defiant look on Crowley before cursing him out for implying such a thing. One thing he wasn't was needy. Dean Winchester doesn't do needy! Everyone knows this, well at least that's what Dean holds onto. 

Crowley didn't believe him and Dean just gripped his blade tightly, it provided him with a anchor in this situation so he doesn't get caught up in it or the anger gained from the situation. Dean took a few breaths to collect himself, it wasn't needed but he did it anyway. 

“What do you want Crowley!” Dean snaps angrily. Cornered maybe. But defiantly angry! Crowley only seemed to be pleased with the reactions and with whatever he caught a glimpse of when they were practically nose to nose. Dean hated not knowing and hated the idea that he might have given away more then he wanted to. He didn't have much left to give! It wasn't fair! 

And everyone seems to only take and take and take. And betray him. No one ever gives anything back, no one every acknowledges it and it wasn't fair! Dean felt a surge of anger at that. Dean had to force himself to calm down, to not let an old anger take hold of him and choke him while in front of someone like Crowley. Crowley was the worst person outside of Alastair to let yourself go like that. Or anything that is out to kill you or eat you for that matter. 

“To talk, not now. You have places to be. And the moose would be wondering where you are at this point. No, at a later time. The three of us will have things to discuss.” Crowley suggested. Dean focused on the number three though, who was the third? Not Sam. Could it be Alastair? Why would Alastair be with Crowley? Or was it someone else? Dean doubted that for some reason, who else would be better to bring into a possible deal with Dean when Crowley usually does things one on one regarding deals. 

Dean frowned, glared and swallowed his anger and paranoia as he stood there. It took at least a minute to collect himself to speak again, he hated the lack of control and everything that was tied into it. Dean felt like he was failing something, someone. Dean hated it. 

“Three?” Dean asked, in his mind he was hoping that it wasn't Alastair. The thought of Alastair always brought on phantom pains and wants that he doesn't want and sweet praises in his ears. A contrast to the blades and the love he got from his Father. 

Crowley seemed smug, like something was going according to plan. Like Dean just fell into some plot that Crowley had going since he appeared or walked into the store they were behind. He probably did. Dean cursed inwardly but at this point he listened anyway, he had no choice but to listen. And it didn't mean that he had to actually go through with it anyway. 

“My number is on the case of this pie. And the third person who will be joining us is Alastair your old master. He and I came to an agreement regarding his and my position in Hell.” Crowley calmly stated, and smiled widely when Dean found himself both shocked and concerned by what he heard. And unfortunately a part of him was a bit curious, what agreement did they come to. Why would Alastair agree or want to be apart of some talk between Dean and Crowley? 

This all could be a lie though, Crowley might just be using his base reactions and his mindset against him. Dean knows he came back from Purgatory different, perhaps wrong. But he was so sure of what he was doing and that was the dangerous thing. 

So yes, perhaps it could be a lie. Nothing more then a lie, Crowley could be misguiding him. After all demons lie, well Alastair didn't lie and that hurt more because the man knew how to use the truth as accurately as a freshly sharpened blade. In his experience was that the man was smart and staked things in his favour to ensure that the only one who wins is Crowley. The demon is a business man so Dean would assume that the man uses lies to his advantage. 

It left the question of should he or shouldn't he. 

Dean picked up the grocery begs and much to his disbelief he actually took the pie from Crowley with a phone number written in a black sharpie on the clear lid. Sam would automatically assume it was some girls number and Dean almost found himself hot under the collar with embarrassment for that.


	5. Preliminary Meeting

Yesterday was one of those good days for dealing. First was the set up for a deal with Dean. He had to spend a little money on something he probably wouldn't consider eating. The last time he had a pie was at least thirty years ago. And that was on a whim during a stop in a small town after a deal. He was wearing a different meat suit then. Young, short hair and definitely male. English accent originally belonged to that vessel and Crowley decided that he liked it so he kept it. The pie at the small cafe tasted like it was homemade and had that fresh taste to it that had Crowley actually enjoying it.

Still Crowley couldn't complain about the situation with Dean. He had the vague thought that Alastair probably knew already that Dean would react that way this time. Alastair did have time with him in Purgatory. A certain one on one time that didn't have other pressing matters over their heads like Lilith and the whole foolish mess of free their creator. Well except for escaping but that was a common goal and one that might not have had to be rushed.

Dean showed traits that would be usable and not so useful. The boy's mind and soul seemed to be even more jagged then it was before Purgatory, not that Crowley expected anything else considering who was his company. Crowley wondered how Castiel thought of the entire situation while in Purgatory. The most important thing though was that Dean had promise when it comes to being useful. Even more then his tainted younger brother. Azazel had the right idea, but too short sided and in line with his lord and master's thinking despite the fact that his master who was in fact their creator was locked away for the most of the time. And things change. Yes, go for the good one with a good heart and he can become a lethal weapon to use if you twist his view on right and wrong.

However, take someone who was legitimately righteous and twist his views of right and wrong and then watch what he becomes. Watch what he does for the good of things and watch as he punishes those who do not fit into his world view. Rumour had it that Alastair himself was at one time righteous before he himself was put on a rack and then trained by someone Crowley didn't know of.

A righteous man was more useful then a tainted boy with a good heart in the long run.

The fireplace was still on. It has been since Alastair started to live under Crowley's roof, not yet going back to his most preferred place. Hell and back to the racks and his research. Alastair didn't say much about where they lived, Crowley figured the demon probably did enjoy the secluded nature of the place seemed to fit Alastair's preferences. Crowley did find it slightly amusing though that his current company hated the cold. Crowley always found that he was more suited for tolerating and thriving topside then Alastair who hated it. It was a surprise that the demon even comes topside, then again he usually was forced to except for that time in Poland. He came on his own accord to play with humans and to see how cruel they manage to be at that point in history. The destruction just sung a tune to Alastair that had him acting like a kid with a new toy. Crowley found the time to have a certain appeal to it, so many deals to be made and was made. Sons to come home. Daughters to live. To help Nazi's disappear without being charged for crimes. Glorious time for Crowley and it sped his career up because Crowley knows how to play the game.

Crowley always found that living in populated area's is people try to either be friendly or you have to follow the general image of up keeping your house on holidays accordingly. It was too much of a bother. It's seclusion thankfully made it so no one would think twice about bothering him. And so long as Alastair didn't drink all of his Craig then Crowley was fine with the Master Torturer who at one time had Crowley on his rack. Crowley didn't have too much hard feelings about it. Those were memories that blurred with his memories as a human, but still stood out when Crowley was particularly moody and then no one should come near him because a common trait all demons share. Anger and sadism. Crowley was good at getting a hold of himself though.

Usually anyway.

Crowley was still waiting for a phone call from Dean to give the go ahead, Crowley was confident that Dean will come because he would be both bothered and curious on Alastair's involvement or perhaps genuinely curious on what Crowley has to say. So while he waited he watched one of his history programs about WW2, Alastair seemed to be fine with watching it even piping up to share stories every now and again. Crowley played ball and offered his own stories in return. They were getting along better now, yesterday in the afternoon they did in fact clash.

Alastair wasn't treating Crowley with the respect he demands. He wasn't a mere Crossroad demon, king or not that was what he was. Now Crowley was the King of Hell and that went a long way in Crowley's opinion. Alastair simply forgot that. Crowley knows that he had to get ride of that unwanted trait quickly.

_Alastair was in the kitchen sharpening the blades, Crowley noted that he did have people to do that when Crowley didn't or couldn't do it himself. Humans because they did have some uses, like his tailor. Alastair took the first step with his words, a statement that wasn't spoken with respect or treated as Crowley believes that he should be treated. He was the King of Hell for crying out loud!_

_Seething Crowley answered accordingly, his tone was that of someone who could be cowed down anymore especially from someone who's rank wasn't the same as his. All the while making sure that this situation wasn't going to be turned against him. The last person Crowley needed to be dealing with was a demon who was practically immune to a lot of things Crowley was vulnerable to._

_It was obvious that Alastair didn't appreciate being spoken to like that, but this situation was viewed as a learning curve in Crowley's mind so some bridges had to be crossed. And it was painfully obvious that they were in fact feeling each other out, little pokes and probes to see what is what and what there was to do about it or with it. Crowley figures it might get a bit worse when Dean actually got there. They both seemed to have use for the boy, want him for some reason or another and perhaps for the same reason. Above all, Crowley was trying to close a deal and everything else was for pleasure. The treat on the side you could say. Alastair on the other hand was trying to steal his most prized student back at a reasonable pace._

_Crowley found out that Alastair did in fact favour Dean over other students. They both were righteous men and they both had skills that could turn grown men into weeping children crying for their mothers._

_A few more verbal jabs were passed before. Snark and cutting, cold above all else. They ended up clashing physically._

Crowley doesn't normally get into fights, he tries to avoid those in favour of surviving to stab that person in the back at a later date if possible. But that wasn't something you can do when you're currently living with the same person and you had a possible deal to be worked out soon.

Crowley remembered that they exchanged hits. All of which were brutal to their vessels. Blood was spilt. Powers came into play and Crowley found out that was the turning point in the disagreement. Alastair was more powerful and more ruthless then Crowley was. He had to fight with his head! Crowley may not look like a very fit man, but he was faster then he looked. Dodging became his main course of defence. He had to react far quicker then he would have liked to. Crowley liked to do things on his terms, the fight he remembered wasn't on his terms.

At least at first.

They swapped insults, any wit they had normally was gone and Crowley ended up summoned a blade yesterday that he stole during his temporary partnership with Castiel. It still gleamed and looked threatening despite the fact that it wasn't your typical blade due to the shape it was. Crowley likened them to slightly flattened spikes in a matter of speech. These could kill demons, he hoped that he didn't actually kill Alastair because that was probably what was going to make Dean come but if anything Crowley was creative. He would come up with a back up plan if need be.

At the end, Crowley ended up putting the blade through Alastair's shoulder and pushed hard. Pinning him to the floor. The demon torturer never had any problems showing pain, he was a bit of a masochist and got off on it. This time however, Alastair fought to hide the pain with an angry hiss.

After that he had to find a way to steal the top rank.

Physical force wasn't working, pain won't work at all. He couldn't use Dean against Alastair. Something told him the boy might be hardwired to choose Alastair over other demons no matter how sweetened the offer was. So that left one thing that Crowley could do, and he does it well.

Pleasure.

Crowley did want the demon to be who he was, completely. He needed a proper torturer to replenish the ranks. However he needed Alastair to know who was the boss now. And sometimes sex went a long way in it's usefulness. Sex can be pleasurable, a mutual thing. Or it can be a treat, a reward you can say. But sex can also be a punishment, an act to control and it can be a forced thing. Crowley has done all the above with sex and he has no shame for it. A few times in order to drive a statement home he even defiled a corpse or two. Still warm and those who needed to learn something could do nothing more then look on and see what Crowley is and can in fact do and still get off.

The sex was like the fight, brutal. Neither of them gave an inch and in the end that left the kitchen floor with more blood. Crowley found it was easier to take the elder demon so long as he was pinned to the floor.

_Crowley hated how his suit was torn and only part of his shirt and the tie that was on his neck seemed to have survived the struggling and fighting demon underneath him. It was apparent that Alastair actually liked it rough. Crowley would have said 'figures' if he wasn't so caught up in trying to control the situation while driving the point home with hard thrusts of his hips._

_Alastair was still pinned to the floor with the angel blade that should have actually killed and probably would have if Crowley didn't put it into a spot that wasn't life threatening for humans. But it still damaged the demon enough to keep him pinned and hissing mad. Alastair reached for it and Crowley stopped him only to have his tie grabbed instead and tightened around his throat as he was pulled down and had his lips attacked._

_Crowley matched the violent nature of what could be considered a kiss. It was enjoyable all the same, though he wished the damned being would stop tightening the tie._

In the end it took about three hours yesterday to solve their disagreement and clean the mess. Crowley was not pleased that such a good day went sour and one of his amari suits was now garbage. Not to mention Crowley didn't really appreciate being choked with his own tie. They both retired to separate sides of the mansion.

Today was a relevantly good day despite the situation last night. Alastair still didn't pay him full respect, but then he never did with Lilith either and even when not fully respectful towards her the Chief Torturer never disobeyed her. Still he wasn't pushing Crowley's buttons as he was yesterday. Perhaps Crowley managed to fix things to get the point across and Alastair would follow the same route with Crowley that he did with Lilith? Crowley certainly hoped so.

Time will tell in the end. And Crowley was going to take a risk with that. Perhaps when they have the eldest Winchester brother it would satisfy Alastair to keep things as they should be. One can always hope.

It was a little after noon when his phone went off and Crowley looked to see who it was before answering it. Crowley couldn't stop the smile of satisfaction from appearing before it was pushed aside in favour of the usual detached nonchalance he requires when opening up a deal, nonchalance with a hint of interest even if that interest is false. It leaves doors open for the one seeking the deal to use and gives them the confidence to relay what they want.

And Crowley gives them what they want, even if it wasn't exactly what they hoped for. Wording was everything.

“Hello Dean.” Crowley greeted, normally Crowley would answer his phone with a casual 'Crowley speaking' because this phone was one that people and things who knew what he was contacted him on. The other phone was one where he takes on the New York accent and habits of his vessel. No one ever expected a thing. No one ever will because Crowley was overly cautious and never took something lightly. He couldn't afford to in his line of work. After all he has so many examples to look to.

One example was sharpening a shaving razor almost lovingly, thumbing the sharp edge delicately while admiring his own work. Crowley just listened to what Dean had to say. Apparently the situations back at the run down building came to a head today and Dean was dealing with it from two sides and now needed a break. Of course he was posturing and making Crowley know that this doesn't mean that he's going to accept anything that's said.

Crowley of course reassured him and made idle promises on not forcing him to accept the deal and that all he would have to do is hear Crowley out. Which wasn't entirely false considering the fact that he won't be forcing him to accept the deal. Crowley will be poking at the situation however. Fanning the flame you might say.

Crowley couldn't say for sure what Alastair would do, but Crowley would use his words because that's what he's good for.

Dean asked where to meet and Crowley let a wide smile spread across his face.

“Relax love, I'll come get you.” Crowley answered, though he was instantly forced into a debate about it. Crowley gave his word that they would that stop what they're doing and return Dean when he truly did want to leave. Careful wording. Dean still fought but his fight had a little less fire in it. Crowley insisted and promised. Eventually Crowley won out and was told where Dean was currently standing. Two streets over from the current living area.

Angry and alone. Crowley just informed Dean that he would see him soon before hanging up and fetching his suit jacket and overcoat. Alastair didn't budge but Crowley could see the demon was pleased with the situation. How could he not, his prized student was coming for a play date.

Crowley simply disappeared from his mansion to a few feet away from the angst filled Winchester who had his hand buried in his pockets and scowling at everything.

“Lighten up it's not the end of the world.” Crowley said, he couldn't stop the snark if he wanted to. Dean sometimes made it way too easy. Crowley just smiled when Dean turned his scowling away from the world and into a full fledged glare directed towards Crowley. A glare that pretty much just told him to 'fuck off' without saying those crude words verbally.

Crowley gave a sigh, the man obviously lost his tongue from the time he phoned to now. Making a move to grab Dean's arm Crowley found annoyance creep into him when Dean moved out of reach. Crowley dropped his hand to the side and gave a slight raised eyebrow as a silent question of 'what' and he knows that Dean would understand that at least, though the boy can be a bit slow at times.

“What?” Crowley finally asked, apparently body language won't work with this one.

Dean glared intensified if that was even possible before it was forced away to a common grouchy setting the Winchester seems to always keep on when not playing some con or during lighter moments that are increasingly few in number.

“Why is he with you? What's the end game Crowley.” Dean finally demanded and Crowley allowed himself a smug smile. Of course Dean would be caught up on his former master. His companion during his stint in Purgatory and in Hell. The one person who was around Dean the longest, the one who didn't leave him on purpose. It was almost sweet in a twisted way, but that was demons for you. There was nothing straight edged about them, everything was twisted around and disfigured. Dean may not be a demon but the boy at one time or another thought like one from what Crowley found out through old fashion research and questioning.

“Already told you, he and I came to an agreement regarding his position and mine.” Crowley reminded as patiently as he could which was nearly easier then sealing the deals because Crowley was very good at his job. And patience was a required trait in his opinion. Not so many of the younger demons had that handy little trait.

Dean's glare intensified once again, the boy had a lot of pent up tension and anger. Not so good for one's health but very useful to possible enemies and to those who are seeking something out of Dean and especially to Crowley who was in fact seeking something and knows how to juggle emotions like that.

“Fine then, what's the end game.” Dean snapped, angry no doubt that his question wasn't fully answered to his liking. All in due time there, the boy just had to be patient.

“The end game is for you, your former Teacher and myself to have a little sit down for a possible deal in the works. But not here, back at my mansion in a state over.” Crowley explained as he took a stubborn step forward and clasping onto Dean's upper arm firmly, Dean didn't fight him off this time though he did stiffen up. With that Crowley simply returned with Dean to his mansion. Alastair wasn't in sight, Crowley figured out where he was though.

Letting Dean go Crowley found the living room was the best place to conduct the latest business. Normally you would use crossroads and not bring it to your own home. But this wasn't a normal situation for that. So Crowley picked up his human business phone and set it away, making sure the power was completely off so he wouldn't be bothered, the same went for his personal phone. Dean looked the place over and probably looked for weapons or anything that he can use.

“Okay, I'm here. What's this about.” Dean demanded as he turned his attention to Crowley who in turn offered a drink, it was turned down which was expected.

“Hello Dean.” Alastair greeted from behind Dean, his voice reminded Crowley of an actor who worked in a movie the Godfather. Whether Alastair spoke that way purposely or not wasn't important. It was enough to unnerve other demons and humans. But it was something that lured people in because of how Alastair spoke.

Crowley watched with amusement as Dean's attention was instantly put onto Alastair as Dean repositioned himself in the living room to face them both. Probably reconsidering the decision of coming here today. Probably regretting it but not going to show that bit. Dean had enough pride in him to keep things tucked down well enough.

“I'm glad to see that you came.” Alastair added, a compliment. An acknowledgement. Most likely engineered to Dean specifically. Crowley poured Alastair a drink and handed it to him, the demon torturer accepted it and took his place on one end of a couch. Dean stole the chair and reluctantly sat down, silenced by Alastair's presence and Crowley enjoyed the silence while it was there. It won't last long, he was sure of that.

“You won't be for long.” Dean ended up replying to Alastair, a snap that might have gained a reaction at one point but got nothing more then a smile that clearly said 'doubtful' and Dean from what Crowley see's understood it perfectly especially if the souring expression was any indication.

“I'm sure you want to know what it is we need to speak to you about.” Crowley decided to say before Dean says something that would gain a more bloodied reaction from Alastair and Crowley didn't feel like having another mess to be cleaned. Yesterday was more then enough.

“Yes, lets.” Alastair agreed as he took a sip of the drink he gained from Crowley. At least the demon didn't inhale it like a drunk and took the time to enjoy it's taste.

From there Crowley took over again, explaining to Dean and giving up some of his cards by letting Dean know what Crowley already knows about their plans with closing the gates. He let Dean know that Crowley was in fact setting up preparations to deal with that. A rather risky gamble there, but the saving grace of that was he didn't say what preparations he was setting up. Just that he was. Crowley could see that Alastair was sitting back and simply watching the situation at hand.

The funny thing was, despite what was being said at the moment between the three of them. It wasn't important, it was just something preceding the actual deal and hopeful situations that Crowley might benefit from.

“What makes you think that you knowing all of this is going to stop me?” Dean snapped at Crowley, upset and angry that he probably lost any footing in this situation that he hoped or thought that he had in the first place. Crowley just let a small frown show, not showing how much he was annoyed but enough to let it be known that he wasn't entirely pleased.

“Because you like what your job is Dean, you like hunting our kind down. Exorcising or killing. If you do lock the gates of Hell, then what would you do. You'd go stir crazy Dean, I know you. Inside and out, literally.” Alastair said, taking point at the moment and speaking only the truth. Everyone knows that Dean liked what he did, even when he hated it. Dean Winchester was one of the best hunters out there, possibly even better then his old man. Crowley knows this but he would never voice it.

Dean opened his mouth to deny this, to insult and anger Alastair enough to get him off that topic knowing it won't work because even through anger Alastair could stay on topic. Crowley decided to cut in at that moment as he poured a third glass, for Dean and set it on the coffee table with a crystal cup coaster that went with the set he uses frequently.

“Not to mention what do you think would happen when demons aren't keeping things balanced, so long as the gates are open then angels have something else to worry about rather then their righteous views of things regarding Earth. So long as those gates stay open then the world keeps spinning as is.” Crowley pointed out, and it was true. Things were quiet up there. But he knows there's a new regime from angels he hasn't heard from before. And they seemed to be righteous and controlling. Their intentions for Earth is unknown so far, but it wouldn't be a small thing either. No one ever learns.

Crowley knows that Dean doesn't have a kind view about angels in general, few might slip that crude and negative view but all in all he didn't think highly of them. Not that Crowley blamed him for that.

Dean was silenced, thinking and angry no doubt. With a deep breath in and an annoyed expression Dean finally pipes up and asks,  
“What do you want then?”

The perfect question. The perfect opening and Crowley smiles and Alastair looked pleased.

“I want to make a deal.” Crowley answered.


	6. The Deal

Alastair watched the entire situation unfold before him, his student was feeling cornered and verbally attacked. But he did listen, and that was something right there. Dean doesn't listen if there isn't something deep in him that is either curious to what you're saying or by some chance considering it. There were so many instances in Hell that Dean found himself enraptured by what Alastair was saying, it didn't matter whether he was on his personal rack and at the end of one of Alastair's razors or if he was learning with Alastair's careful and constant teaching.

Alastair easily became what the boy had needed and in return Dean had became the perfect student. So eager to learn and so eager to please and so desperate to start dishing out his own pain. And his prized student was free to do so. Alastair gave him the permission he would never get from anywhere else on Earth. At the beginning his skills were unrefined but under Alastair's tutelage he became quite the torturer himself and that was even before he took a plunge and become a demon, not that it ever got a chance to come to that.

Everything aside from the angst and stress that filled the room from the only human things were relevantly peaceful. Alastair wasn't entirely fond of the peace, he would rather be hearing the many screams and pleading from souls on his many racks. He would rather be surrounded by horror and pain, lust and sin. And he could make the souls on his racks sing tunes to Heavens that won't answer their call and to loved ones they won't ever know or see again.

But not peace. Alastair was half tempted to cut the peace away and replace it with the sound of screams and flesh being cut into. But he wasn't a young demon, he was older then many today so he can be patient and wait years if that's what it takes. Alastair regarded the occupants calmly, mostly focusing in on his student who looked uncomfortable with the constant attention.

Not only did he want to get ride of the peace. Alastair also wanted to strap Crowley up on one of his racks for his insolence, king or not. Though there was no official title because even Azazel didn't hold a title like that, only one person had at title and he failed in his own schemes because he was locked away with a brother of his from what he's learnt from other demons and Dean himself. Alastair found that Crowley's title was one that was bent over vanity. But at the moment there was more important things to tend to. Like preventing the closing of the gates, not that it really mattered to Alastair. He for one would rather be in Hell then on Earth. An arctic craphole in his opinion. He couldn't see how other demons can stand it here on Earth.

But Crowley literally offered up his old job as a balm and a promise all in exchange of Alastair to follow his command. Alastair wasn't entirely fond of it, but he wasn't fond of following Lilith's orders either. He just did because it saved him trouble that he found unappealing to deal with in the first place, possibly more unappealing then the whole angel business he had to tolerate. Lilith in her days was certainly no slouch in power wise. She was quite skilled in a few area's and she was quite persuasive even to Alastair.

Alastair found his shoulder was still sore from being stabbed with a blade that was introduced to him during the clean up of the mess that was made as an angel's blade. He already knows this, but it was still fascinating to see one up close even though it hurt like nothing else. It made his insides scream in agony and writhe because of it. Not many things could do that for him. He nearly got off on it. Alastair was also informed that the blade could kill a demon, perhaps even one like him.

Begged the question of why Crowley didn't simply kill him off then and there.

But that question was answered not too long after. Crowley required him and wanted him in his old position. It would seem that the ones he has in that area aren't cut out to being torturer's. They needed a proper master leading them along and making sure the cuts weren't sloppy but refined and precise.

Alastair couldn't exactly complain about the sex either, it was extremely rare that he was on a receiving end but there was few who had the audacity to do such a thing and expect to live afterwards. If anything it was that audacity that kept Crowley walking upright rather then in pieces on the floor and organs stretched out on art canvases.

Alastair regarded Crowley for a moment during his explanation of everything going down, risky to let the other team know what you know. But then again Crowley was a demon who didn't always shy away from risks if the return was greater then that. And to have a member of the other team consider your words and your propositions is a tempting risk. Even more so when the one who they were in contact with could go a long way to being useful. And Alastair can personally testify that Dean was useful to have around, for his body, his soul and his skills.

“I want to make a deal.”

Alastair instantly knows that this wasn't going to sit well with Dean the second Crowley said it, but it was a good follow up of the explanation. He watched as instant defiance and stubborn expressions crossed Dean's face before it settled on anger. Anger seemed to be a default setting with Dean, anger and angst. The boy had to lighten up. Still it was alluring and fun to play with all the same.

“No.” Dean instantly spat, anger dripping in his voice and Alastair sighed dramatically.

“Dean. You have to at least listen to what he has to say, it's rude not to. And how do you k now it would be something that doesn't in fact benefit you more so in the end then it does us.” Alastair reprimanded, making sure he sounded a bit disappointed. Dean seemed to dislike it when Alastair sounded disappointed in him for the last fifteen years in Hell and then again in Purgatory. Alastair even remembered that for a moment when Alastair hinted strongly at his displeasure in the barn with the whole ordeal between himself and a couple of angels over one fallen little angel who wasn't fated to live long anyway.

“That's bullshit, there's no such thing as benefiting more from deals then the demon making them.” Dean snapped, though recoiling inwardly from what Alastair said. That recoil didn't last long, Dean was a conflicted individual at the best of times and now it was worse and Alastair tended to poke at that.

“This isn't a deal that's going to cost you your soul, not even on loan.” Crowley pointed out, joining in on the conversation and drawing it to his own schemes once again rather then the growing situation Alastair wouldn't have stopped to a point, he would have enjoyed it and then shifted things on Dean again leaving him off balance. Still Crowley seemed to like to do things his own way, Alastair casually relaxed back and enjoyed another sip from his drink while regarding Dean who turned his attention to Crowley for the moment.

Silence for a moment, all the while the only human present was seething in anger and rage knowing that there was no way around this. He had to hear the demon King out. Crowley gave a smug look, one that Alastair matched because he did enjoy watching others being forced into situations they didn't really want to be in. Alastair's prized student wasn't special to that sort of situation. However Dean had a thicker skin when he was Alastair's student then this diluted version.

Dean gave a look that Alastair read successfully as 'bullshit' because Dean is assuming that even though his soul may not be on the table something else was, something that would carry a heavy cost. He wouldn't be wrong.

“Fine, let's hear it. Doesn't mean I have to accept it.” Dean growled out, free will is something he was bringing to the table for his own benefit, that was okay because demons in a sense have free will as well the only difference is that they are ruled while humans run wild waiting to be caught and tamed or killed. Whichever came first.

Alastair see's a satisfied on Crowley's face. This was obviously going in the direction he had hoped that it would, Alastair shrugged that off though. Things can change and Dean was if nothing else stubborn at best. Dean did look skeptical though, like he didn't expect a lot from this meeting and he may be right they were demons for a reason and making deals to benefit someone else is not in their job description. Not in the long run anyway.

“You think that you'll be lied to?” Alastair pointed out calmly while regarding Dean with a calculating look. The same kind of look he gets when he's deciding when and where to put the next cut or what to use next.

“Demons lie.” Dean hissed out, and it was in fact true. Most demons lied, Alastair didn't care for that practice. It didn't mean that he didn't lie, he did. But he only lied to select few and only because he had to. The truth was as fine of a weapon as any razor. It's more useful then a lie in his experience.

“Have I ever lied to you?” Alastair pointed out, gaining a sense of deja vu from the direction this conversation was going.

_Two weeks, Alastair had the pleasure of a new face in the form of his old student that was plucked from his clutches for holy reasons that Dean failed to perform. It made him proud. Almost. Dean seemed to have gotten used to his presence and didn't seem to dwell on the few moments of sexual interactions that caused quite the limp from Dean afterwards. Alastair on other hand was nothing but satisfied._

_He knows that Dean was praying and looking for that angel. Alastair hissed in anger because of that, he despised that winged freak more then he does any other angel._

_“Have you ever wondered how your Father got out, when you couldn't without the help of an angel?” Alastair suddenly said, he was angry so he was going to poke at Dean until the boy loses his temper and Alastair has another reason to take it out on the boy. He did this quite regularly sometimes._

_The stiffening was the first sign that this wasn't going to take long._

_And it didn't, words were exchanged and insults swapped. Dean flinched at a few, but didn't back down. Alastair was almost tempted to say 'good boy' but refrained in focusing on what Dean was saying. Most of it was garbage, but that was fine. The boy liked to talk at times._

_It went from how John escaped to how he lasted close to a century on one of Alastair's many racks. Arguments are like that with them sometimes, stays with one point but the rest shift constantly. Sometimes it's big shifts and sometimes it's small shifts._

_“I barely paid much attention to John to be honest, he was boring and his secrets were fun in the start but so mainstream by the time I was through with him.” Alastair finally said, scratching his mutated neck. He was in his own true form, most creatures were here. Most were surprisingly human in some ways. That got a wonderful reactions._

_Surprise._

_Shock._

_Anger and last but not least, disbelief._

_“Bullshit, you're lying. Demons lie!” Dean growled out, his makeshift weapon gripped and ready to strike at a moment's notice. Alastair barely acknowledged the weapon and focused on angry green eyes._

_“Have I ever lied to you, I told you the truth every time.” Alastair pointed out, and he didn't lie to Dean. Misdirected perhaps but he didn't actually lie. It's below him most of the time._

_“You said you pulled out all the stops on him, you said after every session...” Dean growled, he obviously remembered that day very well. That made two of them._

_“I made the same offer I did you, yes Dean I did. However I was less enthusiastic with him then I was with you. Yes he was made of stuff of heroes and something unique.” Alastair explained calmly, and yes he did find John Winchester to be boring despite the flaws and screw ups he found in the broken man clinging to a dream of revenge and a memory of his wife. Even though he laid with another woman and sired a child that Dean didn't know about until the Apocalypse was in full swing from what Alastair has found out from others._

_Alastair was more interested in Dean and made sure to ask him about his eldest son whenever he could. Needlessly said John Winchester probably suspected but pain can be rather distracting especially when Alastair pulled secrets from him with careful tugs and twists of his knives and claws._

_“You're contradicting yourself!” Dean accused angrily. And he as right, but only in words and not in meaning because Alastair said exactly what he meant to say._

_“How so? Because I said he was boring, well he was. Unique but also boring.” Alastair explained calmly, amused at the shifts of emotions expressed so easily by someone who was usually pretty good at putting on a mask for the general public. But he couldn't do that for Alastair because everything there needs to be known about Dean, Alastair already knows it._

_“Lies...” Dean hissed, but his anger and the fire in that anger was dying down to an ember as Alastair's words sunk in._

_“The truth and you know it boy.” Alastair pushed as he found them a spot to stop for awhile, his boy needed his rest. They had an escape route to locate and figure out a way out with the information he carved out of Benny the Vampire._

_Dean didn't pray that night._

“No.” The answer was clipped and it sounded like Dean was ashamed to admit to it, but that wasn't quite a one sided story for that shame. However Alastair will leave that to another day. Crowley seemed amused and probably wants to figure out where this came from at a later date. Nosey crossroad demon.

“So then you know when I say that you will be told the truth. You will in fact get nothing but the truth and nothing will be hidden from you in regards of this deal.” Alastair calmly stated and watched as Dean frowned and fought with himself in that regards. Careful management had to be used with Dean. That was common knowledge that Alastair learnt in his early years. Back when things were still in turmoil from wars and shifts in religions topside. Things were still settling down, and Alastair proved to be a quick study.

Dean only gave a nod, a short curt and reluctant nod.

“Are you okay now to listen?” Crowley poked fun of Dean for putting up a resistance and that was only because they had the time to take the necessary time to go with things step by step if that was needed.

Another short curt nod. Dean's pride was wounded and he no doubt felt cornered enough that he had to listen. He felt like he had no other choice. From here on out Alastair would leave it to Crowley, he had his temporary entertainment, he planned to stealing more later anyway.

“Wonderful.” Crowley breathed out, obviously pleased with the agreement to be heard out. This was his game now, Alastair knows how to make deals and such things he just never concerned himself with it too much outside of 'if I put mine down, would you pick it up' sort of thing. But that wasn't much of a deal in the first place.

Crowley explained things, more or less. But he didn't stress on the fact that wording was everything, like normal he was tipping the scale to his favour and Dean wouldn't catch that if he was distracted. And the boy probably was.

“All in all, it's pretty much a tit for tat sort of deal. Not for your soul, but I do something for you if you do something for me.” Crowley finished his explanation with, confidence dripping in his voice as he finished off his drink and put it aside while focusing on Dean.

“You should go first Dean, start this thing off.” Alastair suggested as helpfully as he could, who it was helpful to was another matter. It could be either of them or neither. He didn't actually care that much. He wasn't the caring type, he was a demon who was picked as a human to become such and molded into what he is now. Alastair was also a demon that other demons feared because what kind of demon liked Hell? What kind of demon could delight in torturing fellow demons who crossed him? Well he was one of the worst kind.

Back in his day he could have very well been a Knight-of-Hell but too young to be counted officially and because he was human when picked. But what made them, made him. That was why he had the abilities he did and the strengths that he did. Just not as much of a show boat as Abaddon and others. But no less of a threat.

It took some reasoning to get Dean to agree to make a suggesting first, even if it was against his better judgement. He didn't have much of a choice in the end. It was obvious that he thought hard about what he would want to get out of this mess. For himself? Most likely not, he was a self-sacrificing human who gives everything of himself when it's asked or demanded of. Especially for family, by the time Alastair was done he was cursing them for the sacrifices he was never acknowledged for. Everyone but Sammy, his baby brother.

“Sam...” Dean said, stopped talking after that before taking a breath.

Alastair knew it.

“Sammy... You have to make sure that no matter the turn of events of anything that he gets a new life. A fresh start... Records expunged.” Dean said, his throat seemed to be seizing up at times, guilt and something else? Regret? No, sorrow most likely.

“Okay, easy to do...” Crowley started to say, assuming that that was it. And for Crowley it probably was easy to do. Alastair had no doubt what the demon was able to do or not.

“He can't remember his life as a Hunter... Can't remember anyone from it.” Dean interrupted and went silent afterwards. Throat tight no doubt, he was giving his brother up to keep him happy even though it was foolishly done. Alastair knows that Sam wouldn't be happy if he didn't have his brother there or at least the memory of it. But Dean was a self-sacrificing masochist.

“Are you certain of this Winchester? There's no take backs.” Crowley asked, surprise heard in his voice and laced just underneath it was obvious pleasure. He was enjoying himself, but played his cards easily enough that he didn't put Dean off.

A firm nod.

Alastair watched and noted the 'excellent' barely spoken by Crowley as he let things sink in for a moment, letting Dean relax into the situation because let's face it, Dean will put up a fight. But he gave away a big reason of why he would have to do what Crowley will ask of him. And careful management then they will get everything they were hoping for, Alastair was sure of it. It just took a bit of patience.

It has only been a little over an hour and a half since he got here. No one would be missing him yet.

“Very well then. I will make sure Sam Winchester starts a new life, no ties to his past life or memories. I'll even hook him up with a good job, a nice house. Would he be keeping the Impala or are you keeping that?” Crowley asked, pleased all the same.

“I'll be keeping it...” Dean stated firmly, turns out he wasn't fond of the idea of letting go of that car. Alastair could understand why though, they had many conversations about that car and what it means to Dean. And Alastair listened to every word spoken, Dean despite the agony and anger seemed to enjoy the attention.

“Right then, now for your part of the deal. I want you to keep me updated with what's going on. Where you and your merry little gang are. I want to know everything...” Crowley started to explain, probably not surprised when he was interrupted. Annoyed though all the same.

“What?!” Dean snapped, obviously not liking the price that was now being put on the deal. It may not be a soul but Dean knows the price is high. Crowley gives an appropriate annoyed look that earned a defiant glare from Dean.

“What I'm having you do is a small price to pay for giving your brother a happy ever after.” Crowley pointed out, he wasn't going to budge and Alastair knows that Dean' knows this. Only a fool would be blind to it, and despite everything Dean wasn't a complete fool. He did have his moments however.

“How is that a small price? You're asking me to spy on them. Tell you everything, every plan... Everything. You will use it, because hey you're a demon that's what you do. The price isn't small.” Dean snapped angrily, almost winded from the fact that he knows that this wasn't a small price. This was life altering but it gave him a position he seemed to be well suited for. To take orders. Dean was very good at that, Alastair took full advantage of it even going so far to order him in front of Castiel.

“No, no I imagine the price isn't small. But for your brother, isn't it worth it? Sam is apart of the deal so that means the chances of him being killed is low. Everyone wins, you get your brother in a safe and sound life and I get information.” Crowley calmly explained. Alastair wondered when they were going to inform Dean of when Sam will be put into this sort of lifestyle and how the deal is going to be sealed. Not your usual kiss because one this isn't dealing with souls. This was a contract of another kind and with two demons. It required something a bit more extensive.

Dean ended up standing up and pacing the room, debating the pro's and con's of the entire situation. He wasn't happy with it at all. In fact he was beyond angry, however the lure of his brother being in a safe life was too tempting to just say no to. Alastair crossed one leg over the other and watched calmly.

It took a total of thirty minutes for him to finish his pacing and debating. Still no demand to leave, no demand to take the deal back either. Good signs, for them anyway. Alastair let himself a secret pleased smile inwardly. Pleased that his student will stay to play a little longer, though he was quite capable of getting on without Dean. It truly wasn't a big deal, he just enjoyed toying with the human.

Dean sat down stiffly before rubbing his face once and probably considering himself damned for this, and he wouldn't be entirely wrong there. Alastair patiently waited for his student to speak, Crowley showed a rare sign of patience in demons around his age and younger.

“O-Okay. Fine. It's a deal.” Dean said, and with those words his fate was trapped and Alastair gave a wide grin that was matched by Crowley. Alastair knows this isn't something Dean would normally do, but things changed in Purgatory with Alastair whispering in his ear and the atmosphere itself didn't help.

So in turn, Alastair was both not entirely surprised and completely pleased with the situation.


	7. Sealing the Deal

The deal was made, there just had to be the act of sealing the deal. Dean still felt torn between the right decision and the wrong. The lines weren't so clear cut as he would have wanted them to be. No matter which way he looked at it he found pro's and con's about everything and it literally tore him apart without any actual blood or visual wounds.

On one hand he was betraying his brother and on the other hand he was saving him, again. He was always sacrificing for Sam, always. But that was what he was supposed to do, as an older brother as his brother's caretaker. That was his job! And this way he could give him that apple pie life he seemed to desperately want. This could be his penance for everything he has done or failed to do for and to his brother.

But that didn't change the fact that he was about to sell them out. Sam, Kevin and his mother. He was going to feed Crowley and Alastair information on a daily basis on what they were doing. But then that raised the thought, didn't he already have something to spy on them with? Dean of course brought this up, Crowley simply shot it down and stated that it was better to have a double agent at times to do things that a coin can't do.

There was no going back now. There's no way to get out of this and find another way.

That brought up the act of sealing the deal. Dean brought this up, as far as he knows it'll be sealed with a kiss. A deal is a deal whether or not it deals with souls right? Crowley and Alastair laughed at him. Dean felt embarrassed and humiliated. And he showed it on his face, which only prompted more amusement from both demons. And at his expenses! Dean was so tempted to tell them to take their deal and shove it down their throats when the laughter died down and Crowley sneered at him and Alastair grinned, no matter how much they may play at human there was little things that gave them away. And Dean see's those little things clearly.

“If it's not that way, then how?” Dean asked, though he hated to ask because he knows that it's going to be something he doesn't like. And the grin's they gave him confirmed this.

“Well to explain this simply, you're not making a deal with a common crossroad demon. You're making a deal with not only the King of Hell but with your former Teacher who is also the Chief Torturer of Hell. That's not a simply thing that could be signed and dotted on the line with a kiss darling.” Crowley answered calmly, making eye contact but not really pushing Dean. Not yet anyway, he knows this can and will in fact change as they get on with business. Dean felt his throat seize up for a moment and not for the first time he wondered what stopped him from leaving.

That was easy to figure out, it was something he could almost if not completely describe as morbid curiosity that kept him here and listening to what they had to say. And now he was learning that to seal this deal might require something else then a quick kiss for one or both of them.

“How...” Dean grudgingly asked and glared when they grinned.

Alastair stood up and placed himself next to Dean on the arm of the chair. Dean instantly tried to escape, an automatic reaction and he was already tightly wound up to begin with. He didn't get far considering a hand immediately found his throat forcing him to lean back against the back of the chair he sat in. He had no where to look but up at Alastair who grinned down at him. Dean glared as he gripped Alastair's wrists. He could try to exorcise them but the hand on his throat could stop him within seconds or less. Crowley himself could stop him from where the smug demon sat.

“You're much to tense boy, you really have to learn to relax.” Alastair droned down at him and realization dawned with the look he was getting that always made him feel like a mouse in the clutches of a hungry cat. Dean always knows what those looks meant, he knows that he's going to end up sore in more then one ways and hurting physically or emotionally. Sometimes both, most of the times it was both. Alastair was sadistic and Dean must be a masochist because he has yet to really pull away from the demon Torturer. Confirmed that he took up his old rank and title. Dean doesn't know why, but something in him was pleased by that. And he despised that.

“No.” Dean hissed, glaring up at the demon who grinned down at him. Dean notices the scars and remembers putting them there. Dean found the act a bit, therapeutic and traumatizing.

_“ You ask me to open that door and walk through it... you will not like what walks back out.”_

What a load of shit that was, Dean spoke big but in the end of the day he wasn't something worse or better. He was just his usual broken self. Still it did leave him to think that maybe something started then, something walked out of that room that Dean wasn't aware of because of everything circling around his mind and demanding this and that of him while not giving him a chance to rest. To heal. And what was left when everything was said and done was a fractured human being who turned to alcohol to sleep at least a couple of hours here and there.

Alastair pointed towards Crowley who Dean noticed was standing and approaching the chair he sat on while trapped by Alastair's firm and tight grip on his throat.

“The contract needs to be bound not to only one demon like it normally is in deals. This contract is between three respective individuals. So it requires to be sealed between three. A kiss won't do with the amount of work that is going into this one deal.” Crowley explained as he stopped only a few feet away from Dean's chair. Dean regarded Crowley with a glare. Dean wanted to say no again, but knows it would be pointless. Instead he let his anger be known through glares and snapped insults that never pushed the demons to anger. Not yet anyway.

It didn't stop anything as he was pulled from the chair by the hand at his throat and forced to stand in front of Crowley while Alastair stood against his back. Trapped and pissed off. Neither demon would care and his moods wouldn't change the course of what was going to happen.

It wasn't a secret what this particular expression meant because each expression the demon wore on his borrowed face was the same with his true face. Dean learnt how to read his former teacher.

The particular expression he seen this time around meant that sex was something that would most likely transpire even if Dean didn't want it to. He didn't get a choice in the matter here. And Crowley taking off his tie and unbuttoning his suit was a strong indication that he thought correctly.

Dean was trapped standing between two dominating males, demons on top of that. Dean honestly knows that he won't be topping anyone, this wouldn't be about pleasure as much as it would be about power and finalizing that contract. That deal. Forcing him into a willing betrayal if that made any sense at all. This time around Dean would be at their mercy and he wouldn't have the gentle balm that Castiel gave willingly and sweetly like in Purgatory.

_Dean claimed Castiel's lips and listened to the angel whimper at the sensation as Dean allowed him to adjust to the intrusion as Castiel laid tucked right against Dean's hips. Behind him, on him and in him was the more dominating demon who nipped and licked at Dean's shoulder blades before he grew impatient and started to take as he always does._

_Pain and pleasure became the only thing he knows as he was sandwiched between two of the most life changing people who entered his life._

_Alastair who showed him all the nasty things inside of himself and taught him how to hurt others even though Dean wouldn't have originally wanted to know such horrible things._

_And Castiel who saved him, redeemed him and then rebelled for him. Such devotion couldn't be repaid with normal debt's. Here the least he could do is give him pleasure. Give him love even if it was only the physical kind._

_Alastair sinks his teeth into the nape of Dean's neck while sinking his claws into Dean's hips, all the while causing a gasp and a jolt of his hips that gained a moan from Castiel who glared at Alastair._

And the fact was that despite how much Dean may hate the fact that a part of him was okay with that, made him angrier at himself then anything. Dean couldn't help but wonder if that made him wrong? Did that make him sick in any way? Or just plain lost?

Back in Purgatory the thing between himself and both Alastair and Castiel quickly became regular. A harsh and intoxicating claim from Alastair and a sweet balm of peace from Castiel. A balance, one that sometimes didn't sit well with Dean. Castiel of course blamed Alastair, Dean wasn't so sure it was the demon's fault. By some miracle they didn't clash and thankfully there was a lot of distractions found in Purgatory. Alastair made deaths horribly slow and painful at ties. Castiel quick and painless. For Dean it was whichever was most useful. Either way, Dean was good at it.

“This isn't necessary. There's a lot of different ways to seal this... uh, deal.” Dean said, not caring any longer that he probably just made a fool of himself. Truth was, it wouldn't be the first time and it certainly won't be the last. All the while Dean tried to think up different ways to get out of this. Would an actual contract work, one written on paper rather then his body? Blood magic of sorts? Though Dean did scratch that option off immediately, he wasn't going to go down that road if he can help it.

“Yes, but every other way is lengthy paper work and other sacrifices will have to be made in order to seal this deal per say. Like virgin's blood because guess what, a lot of my contracts may be black ink but virgin blood is mixed with it when a paper contract is required. Not easy to get a hold fine quality that isn't weighed down by health.” Crowley explained calmly, Dean scowled at the thought of a contract being written in virgin's blood and couldn't help but remember the police station and Ruby's solution. Not that it mattered because everyone died anyway.

“Would you really want some poor girl or boy who hasn't had their cherry popped yet to lose their life so soon? Would you be able to live with that just to save your dignity?” Alastair hummed behind him, Dean could feel it against his back when Alastair spoke. Good questions though, would he be okay with that? Maybe but that was an answer that nearly choked him with guilt worse then the hand at his throat could at the moment.

But it was wrong. Dean knows this, because that sort of sacrifice goes against everything Dean has been taught and every rule that Dean follows.

What could he say to that, not much really. He wanted Sam to have that life and if it took having sex with these two then he could do it because truth was he did worse for his brother then this. Once he even sold his own soul. Relaxing as best that he could with the situation he didn't fight when Crowley stepped up to him and simply undone his pants letting them fall so that they were around his ankles, trapped on still by both the floor and his boats. Dean truly did notice the heat now that he was standing literally between two of the biggest threats when it comes to demons.

Dean ended up deciding that if he was going to have sex with these two then he might as well give as much as he can and take what they allow him to take. He knows that he won't be setting claim to either of them, Dean felt like it would be the other way around though. They would be setting claim to him, and possibly to their ranks and roles through him. He felt like a pawn.

Crowley took hold of his neck right under his jaw and pulling him forward, he faintly realized that Alastair let go of his throat and relocated his hands on Dean's hips pulling him back as Crowley set claim of the first kiss of this situation, Dean idly wondered if kissing was really necessary for this. All the same gave as good as he received and Dean considered himself a pretty damn good kisser if he said so himself.

Orders were given and Dean hated that he was so adapt to obeying orders when given in certain tones. He found himself on his knees in front of the chair Dean originally sat. Crowley sitting at the edge and Dean found himself pleasuring the demon in front of him while Alastair set claim to him in sharp brutal thrusts that left him gagging more then once.

Dean closed his eyes, he got tired of seeing what he was doing and let his mind wander to another time while getting pleasure from that memory as he falls into the act of this one.

_Weather could be stormy in Purgatory, Dean still wasn't used to that. However every storm didn't make sense because there was no seasonal order to it at all. Everything in this place seemed to be designed to be a threat and an enemy. Everything but the tree's or so he thought until Castiel explained to Dean that the tree's are made of discarded waste of souls of the oldest of monsters that now do nothing but fade into the surroundings. They may not be enemies but they were the product of this place._

_Caves were few and far between since he made the deal with Alastair. It was by chance that he found one for the now three of them to share. Castiel put himself between Dean and Alastair whenever the angel could. Not always possible when Dean seemed to be so used to being near the demon again that he sometimes automatically stood near him._

_Words were exchanged and Castiel took the initiative this time around and Dean found the angel kneeling in front of him setting claim to Dean in his own way. Alastair who never liked others setting claim to what he believes to be his, took his place behind Dean and set claim that way. Dean was trapped in a whirlwind of feelings and emotions as he felt himself cum inside of the angel's mouth._

Dean felt himself whimper when he was denied the rights to reach his own peak of pleasure as he felt Crowley ejaculate. A hand covered his mouth the second it was empty to make sure he swallowed in turn. Whispers on it being rude if he didn't came from behind him, tucked against his ear. Dean did so, he had no choice but to. And he hated the lack of choice but moaned slightly when he felt Alastair fill him.

Both demons came, but not Dean. Not yet and he doubted that they would allow him to come at all. They seemed to be sadistic that way, which caused him to glare at the both of them in defiance. He so badly wanted to shoot the both of them. Or hurt them in some other way. Something in his expression must have shown this because not only did he get laughed at felt the air be cut off from Alastair.

Dean fought angrily at that and didn't take it too kindly as he felt himself being pulled in the direction of the couch. His back now to Crowley who was half kneeling on the couch himself and Dean himself was forced to face Alastair who only let go of his throat then as he was once again used.

Disgust and shame and pleasure that he found intoxicating all mingled enough to prompt another chuckle. Despite the location change, this situation was nearly the same as before only the roles were reversed and left Dean wondering what was in it for Alastair who before didn't take kindly to sharing what he believes to be his possession. And why he would be allowing Crowley to go in behind him and set claim in the exact way? What game were they playing?

Rational thought slipped away as memories of sex and the sensations took over leaving Dean to ride in the tidal wave of ups and downs.

“Good boy.” Alastair's words managed to reach his attention and Dean hated the stab of joy that caused. It always left him hating the fact that a demon gave him more praises then his own father. A demon had more time and day for Dean then his own father. Where was the fairness of that? And this demon didn't up and leave him or run away from him. How sick was that? Dean hated it.

Alastair came first, following the same order as last time and Dean felt used up and exhausted. His body may be fine tuned to having a lot of endurance and energy from a constant battle and from the stuff he got up to in Purgatory. But he still felt tired, his own emotions didn't help either.

Dean again was made to swallow, told to directly by Alastair. Crowley came and held Dean's hips tightly against his own, Dean winced at the thought of the amount of bruises that's going to be present. How would he explain those? A hand kept him from coming again, Dean let out a whine. The thought of the bruises disappeared as he was pushed so that his back was against Crowley. How did he get into this situation?

“Beg.” Alastair commanded and Dean snapped out his answer as a firm 'no' which prompted the grip to tighten to near painful measures. Dean hissed and remembered why he was in this situation in the first place. Morbid curiosity and Sam. Hands gripping his sides, with fingers spread out over his rib cage kept him secure from behind, a smug smile barely felt but Dean knows it's there. He cursed them both and shifted slightly.

It took a total of five times of stubborn commands and stubborn answers before Dean caved, he really did want his own completion. And Dean knows how Alastair liked to be begged, so he pleaded that way while shifting against Crowley to entice favour should Alastair not let him cum this time around. Crowley let out a barely audible sound that told him that he noticed what Dean was doing.

Thankfully he did come this time with a shout that was cut off with a harsh claiming of his lips and a cooed version of 'good boy'. Dean now worked on recollecting himself and noted where all of his clothing was located. He didn't even care if he cleaned himself off at this point, the deed was done and Dean just wanted to be done with the situation now.

Dean quickly grew uncomfortable with still being in their grasp and showed it, not that they cared at all. Eventually though even they decided it was time to move and quickly got clean using their own abilities and dressed. Dean skipped getting clean because he'd rather have a very hot shower as soon as he can.

“Aren't you going to get cleaned up Dean?” Alastair was the one who brought it up, Alastair despite how much time he spends covered in others blood and organs hated being dirty. Hated having his workshop soiled and disorderly because he believes your workshop is a representative of who you are. Just like how a surgeons tools are always perfectly clean and everything is safe for surgery. Dean just thinks the comparison is sick. Doctors help you. Alastair breaks you.

Dean gritted his teeth before he does up his pants purposely. A statement right there that he wasn't going to budge willingly.

“No, I'll do that when I get back and get clean clothing.” Dean answers, a frown on his face would be enough to show that he was going to put up a fight if he had to. Thankfully Alastair was satisfied at the moment and was willing to let it go. Well until later, Dean will probably pay for it later somehow. But maybe, hopefully that's just his paranoia speaking.

“You'll be happy to know that the business was completed seamlessly, everything is filled out and signed. And in case you want to know, body fluid was required for this contract and a swap of saliva wouldn't do. And the most potent thing that I could think of that's fun for the three of us. I'm sure your Teacher could have been fine with blood, but we decided to be considerate.” Crowley explained and Alastair sneered down at him in agreement. Dean glared at them both, one word popping up to describe the both of them. Bastards. Dean settled for glaring though while he put on his shirt with an angry pull. He didn't waste time putting on everything else and making sure everything was secure and on properly. His hips hurt from being gripped tightly, as did a few other spots.

“Awesome, now can I go.” Dean bite out, sarcasm clearly heard in his voice. Normally it would gain a repercussion from Alastair but they obviously had the victory in this situation and Dean was obviously the one who lost a little bit more then something. Dean knows that now if he doesn't play carefully he might even lose his soul to Hell again. In other words, he might just be fucked but in more then one way and Dean had no one to blame but himself. And he hated it. Dean wanted to lash out or something.

_“...I enjoyed it Sam...”_

Just like in Hell when Dean had the chance to dish out some of what he got no matter what it was. You name it, Dean has probably done it. And to make matters worse, he enjoyed it and he was good at it. All those souls broken because of him. Because he was picked apart to the bare bones and that was what was left. That was buried under all the flesh and all the morals and ethics taught to him by his old man and Bobby. That made him worse then some people he's crossed paths with.

“What are you thinking of Dean? What's going on in that angst-y little head of yours?” Alastair purred out, pleased with the situation and Dean scowled angrily at him. What did he think was going on in his mind, that demon should already know the answer because few people know him as well as Alastair unfortunately knows him.

He turned his attention back to Crowley who had another drink in hand, Dean wondered when he had the time to walk over to the mini bar and get himself something to drink.

“I want to go. You said that you'd take me back when I want to go. I want to go.” Dean insisted, he didn't care whether or not he sounded like he was begging. He had to escape and he had to have a shower, he just had to go somewhere he can be be in a moment of denial before he starts giving up information and actively betraying his brother. A brother he has sacrificed for once again. To protect him because that's his job. That was his right.

Crowley gave a sigh and casually put his drink down on the coffee table that was moved out of the way for the whole act that had Dean in turmoil. A firm grip on his upper arm and Dean found himself back where he started and noted that some time actually passed since he called Crowley who stood there for a moment before giving a smug look.

“Remember Winchester, I call you answer.” Crowley stated before he disappeared leaving Dean alone. Dean's phone rang with a quick check he noted that it was Sam, a text telling him that Sam was worried and sorry. Dean felt guilt swell up inside of him. Not answering it he walked back to the building.

Dean stole a few minutes outside of the building to collect himself before entering. Instantly Sam relocated himself beside Dean, a slight wrinkle of his nose told Dean he smelt what Dean was up to. It was obvious. Dean quickly shot down any apology Sam could come up with.

“Fine. You stink of sex.” Sam eventually bit out, no fire behind his words. Just normal brotherly banter, something Dean feels comfortable with and it was something he could do easily enough. It didn't require chick flick moments or anything close to that.

“Whatever... Bitch.” Dean snapped back, but like Sam there was no fire behind his words. They weren't meant to insult or hurt.

“Jerk.”

Was the last thing said by Sam as Dean disappeared into the bathroom with clean clothing. The second he was there he collapsed into a crouch ignoring the pain that caused him. A hand covered his mouth to muffle everything.

What has he done?

What would Sam think?

What would Castiel think if he was here? Though Castiel did the same, he lied and cheated and turned away from them when they could have helped! Dean felt betrayed but he forgave the angel because he tried to fix things.

The decision was made though, Dean was going to have to live with it and if it gives Sam the life Dean feels like he deserves then Dean will answer every call he can. He'll do it because this is for Sam.

It was all for Sam.

And if it doesn't happen that way, if Sam doesn't get what Dean wants him to get then truth was Dean would feel like he had nothing to lose and then watch him go. There was nothing more dangerous then someone who has nothing to lose.


	8. Step One

The next few weeks were certainly eventful. Crowley was used to being busy but there was a lot more work to be done to set things up just right. And Crowley was a stickler for details and making sure things are done right. Crowley considered himself to be a business man, that was what a Crossroad Demon was in his opinion. Business men and woman. Crowley of course had rules and regulations set up to ensure that the job was done right.

And they do so because the consequences were severe.

Crowley doesn't accept failure and he doesn't accept incompetence even less. Everyone should be racking up a quota of at least ten a month topside or tempting humans into falling into line. Crowley made sure things ran like a well oiled machine. And those who aren't crossroad demons either tempted or they performed tasks Crowley requires of them. Whatever task he needs them to. Whether it's guard duty or hunting down targets Crowley required. Sometimes he had them doing your every day job.

Like construction workers or possessing people who specialize in remodelling buildings inside or out. It helped in the regards of keeping questions to a minimum. Like the large building he had remodelled for Alastair. Not too many demons were on this, only a handful. Enough to get the job done and they were sworn to secrecy. And fixing up a rather large building that was three stories high and that was abandoned some time ago would get a few questions so demons were used. It didn't really help that the building was an old Asylum that was overgrown with weeds and life. That wouldn't be cleared out though, best not make this place too clean on the outside.

On the inside however it was a well working place with remodelled walls and showers. Everything. The room that used to house many patients at once now had six Racks built by hand by Alastair himself the last time Crowley was there. Those racks were so lovingly done you could tell the demon loved his work. Crowley barely enters the building because homeless and the missing was now strapped to the Racks and when they weren't they were held in rooms that were set up for problem patients. It was messy and Crowley didn't always like Alastair's methods, but he could admit that the demon was a genius in his field.

Crowley did however walk down those hallways with a drink listening to the sounds and remembered his own stint in Hell before he shattered. If he was human he would be afraid and horrified. Perhaps even remorseful and pitying. But as it were, he was a demon and has been long enough that he had no problem torturing, killing, raping and desecrating bodies. You name it, Crowley has probably done it at one time or another.

Entering the torture room he eyed the newest addition, a young man. Blue eyes, black hair. Crowley knows why these victims were being picked for. They all resemble the vessel the angel Castiel had used after he saved Dean from Hell. Turns out Alastair probably has a bone to pick with the angel. The fact that he was targeting people who had similarities of the angel's vessel who stole his prized student away made it all that more curious on why Alastair was allowing Crowley to toy around with his prized student. Even in front of him.

Crowley noticed another rack that wasn't there before. Clean of blood and other bodily fluids. Crowley recognizes Enochian though, that one was special and made for a special reason. Chuckling slightly Crowley walked over to it, ignoring pleading looks that will go unanswered because Crowley wasn't there for helping unless they wanted to cut a deal that would surely put them in the same spot in ten years time. But he wasn't about to make any offers.

“You have been busy.” Crowley points out as Alastair came into view with freshly cleaned knives on a push trolly. Alastair eyed him slightly before offering a shrug and a grin.

“Cutting rather dull secrets from already broken down individual's all in day's work.” Alastair answered as he set the trolly against a wall where there was three others that were freshly cleaned. Crowley watched Alastair dry off his hands as the elder demon approached him. Already the ones that were still living were pulled off the rack and taken back to rooms by young demons, Crowley wasn't sure if Alastair would recognize them or care to. They weren't his handy work after all. Not even his students.

But then, Crowley knows that Alastair doesn't care about much of anything. Alastair couldn't always be bought, and if and when he can it was extremely rare and Crowley was barely getting to chances like that. Crowley knows that this demon could take on young angels, the weak ones. Crowley couldn't. Not physically anyway, but Crowley did use his mind and that was a fine weapon in itself.

“How's my boy doing, surely you played with him within the last couple of days.” Alastair mused as he picked up a hose that was installed and started to spray down the racks. Getting them ready for another day of work. Crowley wondered what he would do when humans were not able to be brought in to satiate the torturer because it was drawing too much attention. It wouldn't come to that if they picked people from all over the globe like Crowley suggested. But he had a specific type he wanted and some of them could only be found in this area, if they weren't to Alastair's liking he slit their throat right there and kindly demand another. It left demons scrambling to find another in fear.

“Stubborn, defiant and dare I say needy as well. Though he hides it well.” Crowley decided to answer with a shrug. What Alastair called playing, which might not be too far off, was actually Crowley actually going in person for reports rather then his usual text reports or email reports from the Hunter.

The reports always being accompanied by some rather vulgar language. It turned out that Dean didn't read the fine print well enough to know that the reports would be expected every day and that Sam wasn't being modified until after Crowley gets what he wants.

When Crowley did go for reports in person which really set the Winchester off in fits of tantrums that Crowley puts a stop to after a little bit. It was an enjoyable game that Crowley has set up. And to be honest, he was still very surprised that he was being allowed to play with Alastair's prized student so bluntly. If anything Alastair even gave him tips here and there for how to deal with a needy boy like that, not that Crowley needs to because he's had toys before that became increasingly needy. Sometimes too needy and Crowley just dispatches them when he grows tired of it.

But there was a cutting edge to that neediness the Winchester shows that balances it out. So far. The cutting edge of defiance.

_“He likes to be ordered, dominated and praised, even when he hates it he loves it. His father and his life already set that up for me even before he was placed so lovingly on my Rack.”_

Alastair's words were still purred in delight, and Crowley could still hear them as the elder demon sharpened knives in Crowley's personal torture room in the basement before Crowley pitched the idea of having a building for Alastair to use for himself. Crowley didn't have a problem with his personal torture room being used, but he knew from instinct that once the screams started they wouldn't stop because Alastair would find so many ways of cutting the screams out of people and finding an endless supply of patients or victims. Whatever the demon wanted to call them these days.

The conversation about Dean and Alastair getting his own building came up when Alastair and him sat on opposite sides of the dinner table. Crowley ate because he did like to do things like that at times. Even if they were painfully human. Alastair on the other hand was satisfied with the drink and nothing more that day. Alastair wasn't human and he didn't have a problem who noticed. Alastair was a demon who liked Hell. Who hated Earth. And he was a demon that other demons feared for good reason.

Barely anyone knew he was back yet thanks to careful management from Crowley. Although Crowley didn't appreciate the fact that there was times young demons themselves were dispatched by the torturer.

But those who did know, didn't know who to fear more. Crowley their King or Alastair the Chief Torturer himself. Crowley remembered one demon telling another that Alastair was what legends were made of, back in the day. Those two were dispatched by Crowley himself.

Not to mention that sent the point straight to home that Crowley had to strike fear into their hearts the second they seemed to be cowing down to Alastair in ways Crowley wasn't liking. Foolish, stupid children. Alastair only seemed mildly amused and even offered tips as Crowley did so.

_“Never cut to the chase, always let the anticipation set in first. It's so much sweeter when they are already shaking in their skins when you finally step up to them to start the cutting. And always remember, start small.”_

Crowley wanted to make a remark that came across something like 'yes professor' but that was below him. Instead Crowley gave a pleasant response and made sure the demon knew that Crowley does know what he's doing. Though he did make it seem like they were cohorts and that was enough to put some concern in young demons.

It was obvious that Alastair did enjoy the teaching edge of things. But the demon obviously rarely came up to situations where someone catches his attention enough to have him want to play the ever teaching Professor. Dean must have been one in a lifetime for the elder demon.

Alastair hummed his agreement to what Crowley has said drawing Crowley away from his own musings, the agreement must be because it was rather obvious that Alastair knows what Dean was like and no doubt expected this. Though it was obvious sometimes he didn't like that most of his hard work was washed down the drain by the angel. Still there was edges to him that were finished off by the many betrayals from the Apocalypse to now. Loses Crowley was fully aware that Dean was suffering. Like Robert Singer for example, a feisty old man. Crowley did like the old Hunter, respected him to some degree but beyond that old Bobby was just another business transaction and security net.

Crowley wouldn't have brought him back even if he was offered a few souls or more. It was more useful to have the man dead then alive now. Garth Fitzgerald IV was only starting and had some weak spots still that his predecessor didn't have. Still the boy was smart and learning. But the damage was done and Crowley took advantage of the shift in contacts for hunters. He wouldn't be the King of Hell if he didn't.

“How much fight did my boy put up this time?” Alastair's questioned at this point as he walked with Crowley out of the torture room obviously savouring the broken sobs behind the doors and the whimpers of pain.

“Some, but caved half way through.” Crowley answered, this was the one shared link between himself and the demon and it was the only link that really kept them working together. Crowley made sure Alastair knows what Crowley's plans were. Crowley found out that despite him not caring for Earth the old demon understood the potential of having gates that were wide open. He could get his hands on more tools and test subjects for his research. Crowley would probably end up creating a wide area in Hell for Alastair's studies.

If everything goes well, then perhaps Dean would be there as well beside his master. If not, Crowley knows he will have a problem on his hands. If he couldn't deliver on his own promises then Alastair will no doubt turn on him. Which was why Crowley was keeping an angel's blade on him constantly with the old sadistic demon around. It would end with one of them being killed.

“I could imagine, he was always like that. Even after I took him off the Rack.” Alastair commented as they exited the building altogether. Alastair was already clean of blood even before they left the torture room. The torturer was a clean freak at times, he liked to stay tidy and his work rooms always showed that as well. Even his torturing techniques were all refined and critical in their design. Neat and tidy.

Crowley took this time to inform him of what Alastair's job was. He needed someone to go do things right the first time, for such a critical dig he didn't want young demons messing things up. And with the discovery of another Tablet, Crowley wanted it. No. Crowley needed it because it could help him with his future plans. Alastair wasn't happy with it but did make a comment that at least it wasn't angel business because he disliked dealing with angels even more then he disliked humans.

It was a mutual feeling that Crowley agreed with, but while Alastair was busy doing that then Crowley can take more notice of the action coming from Heaven. The reports coming from Dean told him that so far the marry little band wasn't being too much of a threat and Dean wouldn't lie to him because of what's at risk. He wouldn't threaten the Moose's chances at happiness even though Dean was misguided in what his brother would want in his life. Crowley knows for a fact that Sam would want Dean in his life now that Dean was back, but Dean was self sacrificing, a masochist and perhaps a bit sadistic even though he's not fully aware of that edge.

And Crowley can gamble the chances that if Sam were to remember, Sam would destroy the world Dean has sacrificed himself to provide Sam with in order to get his brother back. If Sam Winchester was thinking that is, but too much angst and too much tension was built up in that little gathering it'll be hard to unravel. Harder now then it was when Dean first got back from Hell.

That in itself caused a satisfied smile to spread across his features.

Alastair was already gone. Crowley knows that the elder demon would steal a chance to visit his student and probably reinstate his dominance over the hunter and remind him that even though Crowley was taking claim on Dean the former student belonged to Alastair. Crowley will allow that. As long as he gets what he wants then Crowley will be fine with taking what he wants from Dean when he can, and then take what he can with his position as the King of Hell. Life goes on in that regards.

Closing his eyes Crowley did allow himself a moment to enjoy the latest memory of a report he went to gather from Dean. They were on a hunt, no doubt trying to reestablish what they used to do. They were also teaching Kevin and his mother how to do things as well. Under who's request could be questionable.

However that part wasn't the interesting part. Not at the moment anyway. Instead Crowley let him go over the interesting part of that particular memory with a small satisfied smile spreading across his face.

_It was more of a struggle to get Dean like this then Crowley would have liked. But that was then and now he had Dean pinned and impaled underneath him. The stubborn hunter put up a fight though and nearly tore something, hissing and spitting out rather creative insults. Even something about Crowley's mother, not that he had one. As a human he did, but not as a demon. As a demon he had no connections like that. Nor did he want any._

_Eventually Dean relented and allowed Crowley to have his way, not that Crowley saw it ending any other way. At first Dean just took it. But with skills that Crowley has gained over the years he knows how to get the hunter responsive and boy was Dean responsive when he got going. Crowley didn't even know he could get some of those sounds out of Dean, but he did and with a few insistent touches designed to make the man fall apart. Dean did._

_Eventually he had Dean making so many noises between his panting and sheer want, Crowley was proud to have had Dean clinging and pushing back against Crowley. Crowley could see healing scars where Alastair no doubt tends to bite from his time in Purgatory. Crowley himself wasn't above leaving marks, but he knew that for now it was best to not create any marks on Dean's neck. Not yet anyway._

_Crowley felt smug when he felt Dean finally gain his climax on their stomach, mouth falling open in a silent scream and his entire body tightening around Crowley._

The second they were done, Crowley remembers that Dean couldn't get away fast enough. Angry and spiteful. But the neediness was there after he gave up the fight because this was how things were going to be from now on and Dean had better accept it. Crowley made sure he made Dean feel good though, physically anyway. Crowley would have praise the boy, but that seemed to be Alastair's gig so Crowley left that part to the torturer.

At least for the moment Crowley won't push that part yet. Right now he was numbing Dean to what was going on with his body. Get him used to the physical stuff and after a few weeks it was slowly sinking in. Repetition was the key.

But enough with those thoughts, Crowley had work to do.

Eventually however, Crowley had the full intention of having Dean invite them into his little carved out home with the Prophet and the rest of the humans. Crowley couldn't wait to see what there reaction to Alastair's presence. It would be amusing that was for sure, but Crowley would have to play that situation very carefully.

With one last thought of where to go, Crowley reappeared to the outskirts of the property where the door to Purgatory was first opened and the souls swallowed up by the greedy Castiel. No sign of angel's here, so no sieges being laid. Crowley made sure to be undetected as he slipped inside to write a few inscriptions to ensure that the gate doesn't open again. He had translations from Kevin to thank for that. From the Leviathan's tablet before Crowley had him start reading the Demon one.

Though that entire mess with Kevin was down right shameful, Crowley swore to not make any mistakes like that again. Who knows, perhaps with either Alastair or Dean at the helm of carving answers and translations out of Kevin they might get somewhere useful.

Crowley walked through the second place out of three openings he knows of. The building formally known as SucroCorp. Crowley bought it under another name and face. Once it was up and running, creating new drinks and junk food because let's face it more gluttonous behaviour the more want he could get out of people. Sometimes he even had deals where people were desperate to be thin so it served him in the long run to make tempting little treats for humans.

At the moment he was undetected because Crowley couldn't have them knowing he was there. It has taken awhile to have the ingredients to make sure this little crack in the prison stayed closed. It was the same as the first stop, he wrote a few inscriptions to ensure that this crack doesn't form into a gate and let nasty little mistakes out again. Crowley learnt from his previous mistake and won't make the same one twice. He wasn't a fool.

The third was where Eve herself came out of. When Dragons had assisted her coming in response to Crowley slaughtering and torturing her so called children. She loved her children, or at least claimed to so that would gain an instant reaction because word travelled back to her and played into Crowley's hands.

Though he was still annoyed that Castiel allowed Dean to kill her, but in hind sight he couldn't complain much. It saved him from a mess forming too soon. The chances were there, that a mess could have been avoided at the same time. It was hard to say really, but it was best that Crowley didn't dwell on that.

Instead he kept searching for the third crack in the prison called Purgatory.

Crowley did need that to be sealed up tight because for one thing some of his enemies were there. Leviathans. Castiel. He couldn't have them getting out and running around causing messes Crowley would have to deal with. That was actually part of step one for Crowley and he was doing it himself to make sure it's done right. He had demons watch the building both Alastair was staying at and the building the group of misfits and his personal contact were staying at. Staying out of sight, though the demons who kept an eye on Alastair were ordered to assist the demon while reporting to Crowley.

Alastair allowed that to happen and made sure the demons who were going to be sent back to report were near wetting themselves in fear. The old demon was just playing now. Crowley had to make sure that was all it was. But he could also read into the simple play as a message that told him that Alastair wasn't one to control so easily. And to not push his luck.

Crowley will do what he pleases though and sends those demons back with confidence replaced by encouraging words and promises of promotion that will never come. One thing was for sure, Alastair kept Crowley on his toes. But the demon was useful for his knowledge because he's literally seen so many things and has been through so many situations. Getting the information out of him sometimes was the part that was tricky.

Finding the third location actually took a few days in total.

Which only served to frustrate and anger Crowley, but he was a business man and put on a good show of being pleased and more or less satisfied. And to make matters worse he had to figure out what Heaven was up to. Which would come from a young angel he has caught sight of every now and again from the Auction.

He had every intention of capturing the young thing then, but that required careful planning and a few text messages during his three day search. And to check up on how Alastair was doing in his job. He had no answer yet from the older demon. Crowley cursed Alastair and swore that if the demon wasn't doing what he was told to do then Crowley will have to show that even though he wasn't as skilled as Alastair in some things, Crowley was no slouch. That point should have been driven home when they had a slight romp on the floor while Alastair was pinned.

Starting the final preparations to making sure this little crack stayed closed the sound of wings caught his attention. This situation was a bit of a gamble because to put it bluntly he didn't know if this choice of action on Crowley's part would actually get a response from Heaven. This was another part of step one. Capturing an angel who was following orders from whatever regime that was set up. The young thing had information that Crowley wanted.

Crowley stood confidently before he turned around and faced the angel still wearing the teenager in the kid like uniform. The vessel had a twin that the other didn't know existed. Not that it mattered to Crowley, but he liked details so he sought them out sometimes. Even locating the twin to this vessel, Matthew Pike. Possibly the knowledge in the father's mind led to turmoil between himself and little Matthew. Not that Crowley cared.

“I have to ask you to stop what you're doing.” The angel spoke, authoritative and so very young compared to it's feathered brethren.

“Samandriel, nice to see you again. Sorry to say, I can't do that. I'm doing everyone a favour in making sure nothing nasty slips out again. Can't have any messes on Earth now.” Crowley stated as he eyed the demon and wondered just what would be his best bet to get the feathery toy caught and captured. He had a few idea's and a few back up plans if this sort of situation came up. Hopefully his plan B would show up soon. Save Crowley from needlessly wasting his energy on plan A.

“Then you leave me with no other choice.” Samandriel spoke calmly as a blade slipped out into it's grasp and Crowley cursed inwardly. Licking his lip lightly he calmly eyed the angel for a moment. The angel didn't strike him down, but with a slight twitch of his body told Crowley he was going to very soon.

“Stop and think for a bit love, what happens to your kind if something like the Leviathan gets out again. Leviathan beats angel, remember. And surely you don't want that sort of mess again. Does your superiors want that sort of mess.” Crowley said quickly, stalling and from his phone vibrating in his pocket he could tell that he was getting a text. Pulling it out he almost laughed at the confused expression on the young angel's face. He obviously didn't know what to do in this sort of situation because the boy was hardly battle worn like older siblings were. And that played into Crowley's favour. However Crowley wasn't going to fool himself, he knows that Samandriel was a threat and as an angel he was a force to recon with in hand to hand combat. For Crowley anyway.

The angel didn't respond to that, instead attacked Crowley who dodged as best that he could. Cutting into the angels shoulder with a knife instead of the angel blade, not giving away that he has one on hand yet. The angel didn't respond emotionally or physically and spun around in response to land a blow to Crowley's chest knocking him back a few feet and onto the ground.

Weak or not, the angel could pack a punch.

Though his help has arrived by the time Crowley was on his feet. The angel seemed honestly shocked to see Alastair there, probably only heard about this particular demon in stories meant to scare little angels into behaving. A hard spike with Enochian carved into it that was meant to knock an angel out temporarily was forced into the vessel's head. Not for the first time Crowley was grateful that he knows Enochian.

With the angel on the ground Crowley regards a smug Alastair with contempt.

“Where were you?” Crowley demanded, he did want reports as steady from Alastair as he does from Dean. Alastair just gave a satisfied grin as a response before picking the angel up with a huff.

“Busy. Turns out I wasn't the only one looking for the Tablet, my boy and his rag tag team are searching for them as well. Or did he fail to let you know that?” Alastair calmly said and Crowley could tell the demon was savouring the outrage Crowley felt. This was a foolish misstep in Dean's situation. This could even be deal breaking. But Alastair gave him a placating calm down wave with his hand.

“Are they now.” Crowley acknowledged as they both reappeared in Alastair's torture chamber that was topside and in the Asylum. There was people already in the other racks. Alastair was no doubt going to put on a show, show them that even an angel could get tortured and no doubt break their faith in rescue or even God. Clever and sadistic.

“I took care of things.” Alastair calmly stated as he strapped the angel into his own personal Rack. No doubt meant for someone else but will be tested on the young Samandriel.


	9. Interrogation

It was times like this that reminded him blissfully of home. The only two things wrong, the only thing the atmosphere missed was the heat and the lack of students learning from his skills. Especially one particular soul that had so much potential until an angel corrupted those skills and buried them under disgusting morals and the ridiculous notion of right and wrong.

There was the wonderful sympathy of screams through the room he has chosen to use and had everything set up to his liking. And then there was the wonderful sense of hopelessness that soaked those screams up and watched while those he mercifully left in the rooms were forced to simply hear it all until their eardrums shattered. There hope and sense of how things are was shattered when they learnt that the teenager dressed in a red stripped uniform who was strapped to a fortified rack was not human at all. The thing, the boy that screamed so many different kinds of screams and snapped and played the defiant role so wonderfully was actually an angel.

Not just any angel, a young one called Samandriel. Impressionable!

To the humans who broke with every cut put to the angel, this was something that shouldn't be possible. Shouldn't have happened in the first place. This was now truly their Hell, worse then it was when it was just them because they still had the option of being killed and unlike in Hell they don't come back. Now all they could do is listen helplessly as Alastair worked an angel over. And now some of them cracked so much that their screams and pleading echoed the angel's.

And through all of it, Alastair was in Heaven.

At times he sung that song to them and remembered blissfully times when he had Dean on the rack. By year twenty he had the boy singing along with him word for word and by the fifth year of being a student Dean in turn sung that song to the souls on his boy's rack. Good times.

In truth, Alastair never had the chance to torture an angel before and never did he think that he would ever get the chance to have one visit his racks. Alastair took extra care to do his best work on the thing strung up to his rack. This wasn't the original angel he wanted strapped here but Alastair figured it was good practice so he could refine his skills.

When the angel started to get used to the torture, Alastair switched tactics and moved onto one of the human's tied up in the room. The angel who loved humans obviously or at least held them at a higher level then most creatures do, pleaded with him to don't do it. Alastair tortured all of them that day.

This type of session went on for two months and by the end of the second he had Samandriel reassuring them that they will be okay. Their last thoughts were on how an angel lied to them. Shattering the soul even before it left the body and either went up or down. Alastair just smiled when Samandriel demanded why he did that, why he was doing what he was doing.

Alastair never said a word to Samandriel the entire two months, even when he had Samandriel reassure them he had one of the broken humans plead with the angel to do it.

It was then when Alastair started to use the angel blade that was gifted to him by the current King of Hell. It was finely crafted and so easy to hold in his vessel's hands. The metal felt cool and warm at the same time. Soothing and heavy, promising and threatening. Like a proper knife from Heaven should.

Alastair sensed the presence of the said King himself standing behind him. He warned Crowley to stay away from Dean for the two months, let Alastair's teaching sink in. Crowley wasn't pleased with that suggestion, but after he gave his answer on how Alastair dealt with the punishment of a boy conditioned to obey both by John Winchester and then by Alastair himself. It wasn't hard.

_Crowley was enraged and Alastair was amused._

_“You took care of it did you. Pray tell darling, how so.” Crowley demanded, eyes flashing red for a moment and Alastair just smiled as he stepped towards Crowley until he was standing face to face with Crowley._

_“Never doubt my abilities to handle my boy, I know his vices as easily as I know yours.” Alastair purred, and it was true because at one time a man called Fergus Roderick McLeod graced his racks as well. Broke fast and hard and the end result was a demon who had a skill for selling deals and selling them fast. A demon that eventually was dubbed Crowley._

_The proclaimed king snarled and seethed and Alastair ended up choking on his vessel's blood and the pain was actually there and he rejoiced for it. But the point was made and Alastair couldn't help but chuckle as he spat out some of his blood and licked the rest of it off his lips._

_“I cornered the boy when he was separated from his brother and the Prophet you mentioned. They failed to get a hold of the tablet because it was false information. There is no tablet there. Which was an utter waste of my time. However the results I accomplished in Dean was worth the interruption to my studies._

_Dean didn't expect to see me, the surprise on his face apparent. He seemed more concerned on whether or not the others would see me then the fate that he could have came to. Shame does that though, funny little emotion to play with in some situations. I told Dean to come, and he did. Reluctantly._

_I had him curled in on himself with pain and agony. When he was curled on the ground gasping, a scream stuck in his throat so the others won't hear him I simply knelt over him, straddling the side of his hip. One that I had the pleasure of shattering so many times in Hell. Or what had the appearance of bone._

_I simply spoke to him, whispered threats and warnings and truth into his ear. He could do nothing but listen. The boy is stressed by the situation with the others and the tension wrapped in that group. I merely comforted him at the end. Reassured him and then warned him not to fool himself in thinking that he could get away with pulling such childish stunts.” Alastair explained, the details weren't good enough but it was one of those situations where you had to be there because the Dean he spoke of didn't ring true to anyone else who knew the hunter. But Alastair recognizes this stage and knows how to handle it. It was trickier here because of the presence of the said brother and the two other humans._

_Crowley didn't seem convinced though. Alastair gave a heavy sigh as a response._

_“Is that it, that would work.” Crowley snapped out, Alastair could tell that the King was not convinced and like with Lilith so many times Alastair didn't strive to please but he did obey her. Alastair will go along with Crowley for now, if the demon truly pushed Alastair to anger then Alastair can't promise that Crowley would walk away unscathed._

_“I told him I was disappointed in him. He hates that. Crowley, I recognize his mindset and I know how to twist it to my thinking. I will be in full contact with him here on out. Guiding his hand when he needs it and giving him everything he needs. Be what he doesn't get from others.” Alastair simply explained calmly as he eyed the angel now strapped into the rack for a moment before turning back to Crowley who eyed him suspiciously._

_“I highly doubt Dean would go for that.” Crowley pointed out, but backing off slightly. Not enough for Alastair's liking, to him Crowley was still a miserable crossroad demon and nothing else but what is, is. Alastair will play along._

_“Not while you're buzzing around and fucking him into whatever available surface you have handy. He will resist me by resisting and succumbing to your physical whims.” Alastair calmly stated, the routine Dean got into with Crowley was one that even Dean could slip through every now and again. Don't get him wrong, Alastair agreed with Crowley's thinking and did admit the genius of the plan but he didn't live with Dean constantly for forty years and another year spent in Purgatory._

_Alastair explained that, and was exceedingly detailed about that part and the mindset of Dean._

_Eventually Crowley seemed more and more pleased with the explanation and relented to Alastair's way of doing things in this one situation, this was a delicate situation that needed to be handled calmly and agreed to stay away from Dean. They both knew that it would knock Dean off of the routine that was set up and left a small sliver of an opening that Alastair could sink into._

Alastair turned away from the angel and eyed the impeccably dressed demon King before setting the knife down and smiling at the sigh of relief the angel didn't know he let out. Alastair even put it down and approached the demon while the screams quietened to sobs and hiccups around them.

“Well.” Crowley asked, wanting to know how far along the torture was and how soon they can get information. Alastair just gave a satisfied grin but one that didn't promise that he succeeded even though he now knows that's he's on the way to doing so.

“Angels are easier to torture then I hoped, my boy even put up more of a struggle then this thing. However, I am making progress all the same. He isn't yet at the point to start singing information though. Which is a slight pity but workable.” Alastair calmly said and again found some amusement at the annoyance and frustration spotted in the demon.

“You were at this for two months already, I gave you everything you had requested. Surely you could have made more progress then this.” Crowley snapped as he eyed the angel with disdain that wasn't hidden. Alastair could sympathize because he himself wasn't too fond of being in the presence of an angel.

“When one wants the work to be done right, then do it right rather then rush. Don't worry, I have been doing this for a very long time and I know what I'm doing. It will be done.” Alastair calmly stated with a shrug and the sobs and hiccups eased off to quiet pants and attempts to recollect themselves. A false reprieve from their torment. Alastair allowed them to have it. The blood they were still wincing at the sight of, Alastair found it to be an improvement to the place.

“I won't break... You won't get anything from me.” Samandriel interrupted them, blurting out and Alastair didn't react at first. But he heard it, he heard the waver that the angel probably didn't think anything of. Placed it there by the torture itself not what was happening. But what has been done cannot be undone and Alastair saw the pleased gleam shine in Crowley's eyes.

““Really? Dear angel, did you hear what I just heard. A wavering in your statement, not as bold and as confident as before. No pet, you're breaking right now and eventually you'll sing my tunes.” Alastair calmly said, the confidence in his voice backed with a cruel smile that was equally cold. All the while turning away from Crowley to eye the angel staring defiantly back at them.

“How much longer?” Crowley asked calmly as he sipped a drink that he didn't have seconds ago.

“Two months, three at the most.” Alastair purred as he re-approached the angel who winced at his nearing. Alastair no longer acknowledged Crowley's presence, not that it mattered the demon disappeared soon after most likely not happy but satisfied with the answer he received.

Alastair picked up the angel's blade and proceeded with his work.

And for another month Alastair didn't say a single word to Samandriel as he cut and carved and tortured the angel in front of him. Alastair only stopped when the angel was on a verge of being burnt out permanently. Always coming back the next day to torture him or to torture different humans in front of him every day.

When the angel was starting to get used to seeing human males being tortured, Alastair switched them to females. When that didn't work he brought in children from a continent away or sometimes in the very neighbourhood near the Asylum. All so the angel could hear the screams of children and the distant weeping of parents missing their beloved children.

That really did a number on both the angel and the other humans here.

“Please... Stop, do whatever you wish to me but do not harm them. Please...” Samandriel pleaded and Alastair smiled. He said not a word but relented on the torment of the children and had demons take them out back and watched as Samandriel winced and whimpered at each sound of gunshots ringing out.

Alastair didn't say a word besides singing the song he sung with his most prized student.

_Heaven_   
_I'm in heaven_   
_And my heart beats_   
_So that I can hardly speak_

And Alastair was in Heaven because for him it looked like Hell.

It wasn't until half way through the next month did Alastair start to speak with Samandriel. About little stuff here and there, Samandriel even replied a few times and answered the questions. Alastair listened dutifully while carving away pieces of flesh and sometimes just cutting alongside other freshly carved gashes delicately sliced open and he watched them seal shut slower now then when they first started. The angel was actually dying a slow death and pieces of who it was, is being lost steadily.

Out of the blue Alastair decided to pick a topic near and dear to him.

“Have I told you about my student?” Alastair stated calmly as he watched for skin that was now whole again so he could cut into it. This time with a regular knife rather then the angel's blade that was covered with enough blood it was covered from handle to the tip. Alastair idly wondered what the boy the angel was wearing was going through, if he could even feel what was being done to him. He didn't ask though. Not that Alastair really cared all that much, flesh was only a canvas at the end of the day, something to carve your work into or mold to your own shape.

No answer came, not that he expected one.

“No?” Alastair said, acting as though he was answered. Everyone strapped to a rack in this room heard his stories before. The stories about the student with such thrilling potential. The student that put life back into Alastair himself. The student who was stolen from him by an angel of their Lord.

Alastair would either tell stories, speak about things or listen to what was being said. Sometimes he would even sing. Old fashion songs from so many different ages. He didn't care for some of the new singers and artists. Some of them already holding a one way ticket. Alastair wondered so many times what kind of tunes he could make them sing.

Alastair launched into the story of when he first caught a glimpse of Dean and how bright his soul was. How he broke so beautifully and how he yielded to Alastair's advances even before he was pulled from the rack. How he was the perfect student with his skill and sadism and how he used to strive for Alastair's approval.

“The Righteous man never belonged in Perdition... He belongs to and in Heaven...” Samandriel whispered as he watched the knives with apprehension and Alastair seethed at such a statement. How dare this angel declare where his student, his boy should belong! But there wasn't anything to do about that now.

In the other room Alastair heard a phone ring. He didn't grace the angel with an answer. Instead he washed his hands quickly and answered the phone, a satisfied smile spread across his face as he heard the slightly uncertain voice on the other end. For the three and a half months he was sending either texts or hand written messages to Dean with words especially carved out for Dean's needy personality.

Alastair listened to the voice with a pleased grin on his face, answering where it was needed and then asking a question that might be pushing the luck and boundaries but then again boundaries were meant to be shattered.

“I'm in a bind Dean, stomach or desecration of something lower.” Alastair didn't have to launch into details of what he meant because Dean would know and there was silence on the other phone before it hung up. Alastair didn't like the fact that he didn't get an answer, but the silence itself held promise in itself so he let it go. Setting the phone down he reentered the room to see Crowley eyeing the angel and the angel failing to look defiant as it stared back.

“What was that about?” Crowley asked turning his attention towards Alastair who simply picked up a small knife.

“A promising response.” Alastair purred as he approached the angel who shivered at the approach. Alastair didn't do anything beyond that until a satisfied Crowley left the room. Once it was just the two of them now, the other racks empty and cleaned. Cutting away fabric that could prove to be a slight hindrance to the area he was now going to show attention.

The room filled with screams of both the angel and the vessel as Alastair proceeded to do both desecrate the genitalia and carve patterns into the stomach. Alastair hummed his pleasure.

It wasn't until another month, half a month longer then Alastair predicted but he was okay with that. Crowley sneered because of it but even he cannot argue with the success of the breaking of an angel. Though sometimes it was hard to get the angel to the right setting, it turned out Alastair broke it so badly it was back to what Crowley dubbed as 'factory settings'. Not that Alastair could disagree, angels didn't seem to be nothing more then fancy robots made of light.

It was actually a bit disappointing really.

Alastair simply had to adjust head clamps now to get the angel to sing tunes in either one of the human languages and a few dead ones or to get him to speak in Enochian the angel's language. Alastair knew most if not all of the languages on Earth, carved it out of patients on his racks. Enochian took him some time to learn, but even that was taught to him by other Knights of Hell. Alastair was the youngest amongst them not that it mattered. Tenacity had Alastair on top of his game. Tenacity and the ambition to do his job right in the first place.

“Well?” Crowley asked, Alastair was aware that since Crowley couldn't play with Dean at the moment he was either bothering Alastair or setting things up to make preparations should he need to. Even Alastair had to admit that Crowley was intelligent when it comes to schemes and plans. Though he did jump the gun a bit with Dean, but the crossroad demon learnt from it and was now standing back letting a professional in everything to do with Dean take over.

“Well, I learnt plenty of humans being created and how Heaven used to be before the Morningstar was pushed from Heaven to the Cage deep in Hell. Turns out Samandriel here was barely a fledgling then and remembered how Heaven shook with the force of that fight. He idolizes Castiel like a groupie hence why he's so attached to humans. Which is a weak spot for this angel because I exploited it every chance I got. The aim this time however, wasn't to make him hate.

It was to break the angel. And broke him I did. Still it is rather disappointing because my boy lasted longer then this taking the fact that up here it only took a few months and a half to shatter the angel. Guess some human are made of something stronger despite the lack of power they hold. The angel's factory settings is what's interesting though and leaves so much room to play. There is several Words of God, not only the demon and leviathan tablets as you know.

Apparently the one that I was sent after was for vampires. The one that you're interested in as the angel's tablet. It's location is...” Alastair stopped and twisted the head clamp slightly and Samandriel instantly started to make sounds of pain and pleading for it to stop until Alastair brought it to the right setting and he started to speak of the angel tablet once more.

“And according to your warm up angel here, the one about angel's is in one of Lucifer's crypts.” Crowley stated as they listened to Enochian rambling coming from the angel. With a bit more adjusting, this time from Crowley himself Alastair listened to orders and missions being sped through. Crowley no doubt looking for any information that would assist them in the future with Heaven on the move in ways Crowley could not predict yet. Not that Alastair could figure out what they're up to now.

The rules and how things are done has been changed since he escaped Purgatory with Dean.

Eventually he stumbles on some information that had Crowley tense up in anger and Alastair thrilled at the possibilities of having that angel strapped to this rack. Angels were laying siege to Purgatory to raise Castiel from it's confines. It also meant that whatever they were doing had to be picked up a notch in order to beat whatever is coming in the future.

Alastair was fine with that, how can he not. He's had to deal with a lot of other messes in the past.

“Does the angel know the location of the crypts.” Crowley demanded now that the knowledge of who might be topside soon and the fact that there are Words of God out there for everything including angels. Alastair simply hummed lightly to himself thinking back on what he learnt from the angel.

“No, however I know of one who may know where they are. Azazel once told me that he took her to visit each and every one of them.” Alastair answered as he loosened the head clamp and allowed the angel to slump into unconsciousness.

“Who.” Crowley asked, no doubt expecting an answer as usual. Alastair sighed in exasperation, what is it with the younger generations of demons. They were always so demanding it seemed like.

“One of my students, Meg.” Alastair answered without hesitation. Meg was a demon who was entrusted to him by Azazel himself, but not his first choice in students. Alastair doesn't like when students are picked for him but it is so very rare that he does pick students other demons had to insist on it. He co-operates only so he doesn't have to deal with the headache of listening to Lilith's screeching. He holds no attachment to most who pass through under him to learn the tricks of the trade.

Eyes narrowed in contemplation on Crowley's part before straightening up. No doubt debating on how much trust he could put in an old school demon who barely fits in the new regime. But that was fine, Alastair will either carve a place out for himself underneath the line ups or he will cause everything to collapse and follow the old ways once again.

It was Crowley's choice in the end and Alastair can deal with both with ease, he won't be making arrogant mistakes again. Child's play.

“I will bring her here, to you. And you will get everything she knows about those crypts. Location and what's in them. And have it done under a month this time.” Crowley ordered and with that disappeared.

Alastair wasn't too fond of being ordered but he'll deal with it. At least Crowley didn't screech like a banshee when he demanded things from him or ordered Alastair around. He did have a habit of random yelling though, but that he passed off as a quirk. They all had them, even Alastair has quirks of his own.

It took a total of two hours for Alastair to adjust one rack so that it could hold a demon and for Meg to be delivered by two faceless demons.

“Alastair...” Her voice quacked in both trepidation and surprise. Alastair savoured it before having the demons strap her into the rack and fled soon after.

“You have the stench of humanity seeping out of your pours. What have you been up to?” Alastair calmly stated as he picked the best knife he had for torture and smiled wickedly down at her. She now knows what's going to happen and that fear only seems to spread throughout her body.

One of his information searches was done, and Alastair was about to start another. The job is never done for him, and for that Alastair was glad for.


	10. Revelations and Half-Truths

A total of three and a half months has passed. Three different places they stayed, never staying longer then a month at a single place. And every time Dean informs Crowley or Alastair where they were. Not that he needed to do that with Alastair, he always seemed to know where Dean was. Always asking him about the weather or something, Dean never answers the texts. Just gives reports.

And for two of those months things have been going well, despite the suspicions on why Crowley suddenly stopped coming to him physically and demanding things from him and his body. Dean was able to breath again for two of those months despite the texts and messages left from Alastair. He could live with that, little texts here and there was pretty easy to live with.

But a month and a half ago things went wrong. Very wrong. Dean slipped up.

_The argument came out of nowhere, Dean's tense behaviour finally dawned on Sam and pushed Sam into wanting answers. Not that he could blame his brother, if the roles were reverse Dean would demand the same things. The only thing was, Dean didn't want to give him answers. Didn't want to be interrogated but he was. All four of them were in the kitchen of the ratty old building they were going to leave any day._

_They were tired of being told 'he didn't make it' when it comes to Castiel. And getting no answer of who helped Dean out of Purgatory. They weren't satisfied with his half answers and half truths._

_“What happened to Castiel Dean.” Sam snapped, his height more noticeable now that he was pulling himself to his full height. Sam made it known that his usual answer won't work and won't be accepted._

_“He let go Sam. He just let go, gave up. I couldn't bring him out of Purgatory like Cas brought me out of Hell. Maybe it was because of who my company was, who helped me out or just because he didn't have the will. How the fuck should I know!” Dean snapped and realized what he said, what he hinted and what Sam would now demand answers on. He cursed to himself, turning his back and rubbing his face as he tried to collect himself. Tried to find an answer that didn't have the name 'Alastair' in it._

_Nothing came up._

_Linda took her turn to demand answers on who helped him. Dean told her to fuck off, but Sam took it from there and kept demanding. Kept wanting to know._

_“He helped me out, I had no choice but to accept his help. He was the only one who knew how to get out. It would have been Benny, a vampire but the information on how to get out was... Was stolen from him. By force...” Dean snarled, not saying the name. Not just yet. His mind sent an apology to Benny for failing to help a guy who helped him for a time._

_“Who is He Dean!” Sam snarled, tired of not getting answers and Dean glared right back._

_“Alastair! Alastair was the one who got me out!” Dean yelled back. Anger coursing through him and threatening to pour out in more destructive means. Dean fled the room after that, he didn't give anyone chances to talk and heard Sam explaining to Linda and Kevin who Alastair was. The short explanation._

Dean didn't know if his slip up was worse then the fact that he was caught red handed by Alastair himself in the botched hunt for the tablet three and a half months ago. Either way, it was something he had to live with now. They knew who helped him out. They knew who was topside.

And they all knew who wasn't. The one guy who deserved to be topside and wasn't.

Castiel. The angel who saved Dean, redeemed him before he took a final plunge in Hell and became a demon far sooner then others. Castiel who rebelled for them. Castiel who was the closes thing Dean had to a friend. A genuinely good guy despite his screw ups. They all made those though, so who was Dean to really judge a guy for long? Especially when Castiel had enough balls to try to fix things. Not many had the guts to try.

Dean occupied the Impala rather then the fourth place they were staying at. They only been here for half a month and it was tense and awkward because nobody knew how to react to Dean now. Dean closed his eyes to that knowledge as he relaxed in the Impala as best that he could. Music on and blaring. Not letting any other sound come close to him.

Just his music and his memories to keep him company.

Dean remembered three and a half ago when he was caught red handed by Alastair. Dean was once again reminded that he didn't know which memory, which situation was worse.

_Dean didn't know what hurt the most, the physical pain that he was experiencing or the emotional agony. He cursed Alastair with everything he had as he curled into himself, it was involuntary because of the pain. Dean hates it, but he couldn't make himself stop from curling into himself and clawing at the ground like some desperate... He didn't know what to call himself. He didn't like the sound of victim. Dean had to fight with himself to keep the scream silent, he didn't want the others to know his situation._

_His weaknesses._

_“You disappoint me Dean, we were off to such a good start in Purgatory and then the deal with the three of us.” Alastair purred and Dean hated that he winced as he felt weight settling on his hip making how powerless he was in the situation even more known. And the word disappointed remained in his thoughts despite how Dean didn't want it to._

_Dean tried to speak, tried to say some smart ass comment or snap... Or something. He refused to even start making excuses._

_“The deal didn't say that I couldn't... couldn't look for anything.” Dean ended up finally forcing out, his throat hurt as bad as everything else. He swore he was seeing double. Alastair seemed to agree with him, acknowledged what he said. Though Alastair always acknowledges what Dean had to say, even though he quickly corrected or shot whatever he said down. At least he listened..._

_Dean pushed that aside as shame seemed to curl up in his throat almost choking him._

_“True, however you were told to report everything you do. You failed to do so boy. One has to wonder why though. Why make such a risky mistake, honestly Dean I expect more out of you.” Alastair chastised and Dean hated how regretful the demon was making him feel. Dean almost wanted to say sorry and then took that off the table because that was a weakness and this was a demon, you don't apologize to demons._

_Silence stretched on before shifting caught his attention as Alastair moved enough so that was now hovering over him enough to look Dean in the eyes. A hand stroked Dean's hair in a comforting manner and Dean was wary of it, Alastair doesn't always offer comfort without a price or pain that will follow._

_Dean didn't take his eyes off of Alastair's for a second._

He didn't expect that Alastair simply did just that. Comfort, reassure and then informed Dean that he is not to make this mistake again or else the next time Alastair has to deal with rebellious behaviour like this it wouldn't be as kindly as this meeting. This meeting would be Heaven compared to their next should Dean screw up again.

His phone vibrated, a text. Looking at it he cursed Alastair. It was a simple text, one that pointed out that Dean seemed tense and should relax more. Though it had a demonic twist to it and told him he should find someone to take his tension out on. Dean knows he's not meaning rough sex or anything like that. Alastair meant torture.

Deleting the text Dean scowled at the ceiling of the Impala before turning the music off and entering the building. Any conversation that was going on stopped as they regarded him for a moment, Dean stared right back at them. Challenging them to say something, daring them to say the wrong thing. Dean didn't mean to be like that, but he had enough of conversations being hushed and stopped whenever he entered the house or the room. Sam wasn't so bad, but he wasn't innocent either.

The conversation started up again, but it was different.

Whatever ground he made with the Mother and Son was now destroyed and Dean had to start over again. Not that Dean felt like he had the energy to do so. Still he had to live with these three people, Sam wasn't the problem, but the other two he had to find a way to make things work with them again. Dean wasn't looking forward to it.

Still his mood was now worse then before. Far worse.

Sitting down with a plate of food, probably the main reason he found himself going in. Linda might not like things but she still managed to find the energy or the will in her to carry on. Her cooking was the best, it's been some time since he tasted food this good. Everyone else had plates of food. Sam already blurted out that he was just going to go get Dean for supper. Dean made sure Sam knew it was okay.

The meal was tense and that made the food taste a bit more bland then it used to. Today's hushed conversation he heard Alastair's name, they were still curious. Curiosity killed the cat. Dean had to make sure they knew that Alastair wasn't a demon they should be curious about because that would just get the demon curious enough to pay them a visit. Dean doesn't want that for them, he wouldn't wish Alastair on anyone. Not even on people Dean hated for reasons that he felt justified in.

“Ask me.” Dean forced out as he polished off his drink and leaned back eyeing everyone in the room.

“What?” Kevin asked, uncomfortable and not knowing where this was going. Dean watched as Sam tensed.

“Ask me what you want to know about him.” Dean clarified, daring them to. But not bringing himself to say the name Alastair. Everyone was trying to see if he was serious, even Sam was caught off guard with this one. Dean made sure they knew he was serious. Made sure they couldn't underestimate how serious he was with this situation.

“Who was he?” Linda asked, the first one to have the balls to push forward. But then again Dean knows that she always had the guts to get things done and had enough ambition to ask questions others might shy away from. Dean couldn't help but respect her for that.

“He is a demon, one of the more powerful kind. Holy Water, doesn't work on him. Salt doesn't work on him. Regular devil traps won't hold him, he'll get out of those one way or another. His name is Alastair. He was and maybe is once again the Chief Torturer of Hell. He commanded the Pit in regards of the Racks and torture. He's one of the main reasons demons exist is because he cuts away everything that you are.

Alastair is a White-Eyed demon. And he's old, very old. Once he even made me understand that he was alive when that Jesus guy was crucified. He was human once. Like you and me. Alastair is the kind of guy that makes Freddy Krueger and the Joker look friendly and safe to leave the kids with... He's bad news. He just is.” Dean explained and hated that he felt like he was betraying Alastair by saying some of the things that he did and in the same breath he wondered if Alastair would feel flattered that Dean was talking about him.

“How do you know this?” Kevin asked. Dean made a note that told him that Sam probably didn't tell him how Dean knows all of this or even knows who Alastair was in the first place. Dean eyed Kevin hard for a moment, almost enjoying how he shifted uncomfortably. Guilt choked Dean enough that he had to look away and eyed Sam for a moment.

How much could he tell about this. What could he say?

“Alastair was my torturer... I went to Hell a few years ago for four months. Alastair was the one who gave me his undivided attention and he's very chatty.” Dean explained and felt like he was choking inside because of what he said. What if they wanted more information. How could he tell them that for thirty of those years he was tortured and for the other ten he in turn tortured souls under Alastair's guidance. All the while destroying who he was.

And Dean enjoyed it! How could he confess such things like that?

Silence crept over them though, and he saw the shock and the guilt on their faces. Dean now knows that they might have assumed that Dean now had no other choice but to help the demon out of Purgatory. Imagination took over after that. Probably made them thin that Dean might have been tortured into agreeing. That wouldn't be too far off, but still it was by Dean's will alone. There's no way to get around that. How could he?

“I'm sorry...” Kevin actually said and Dean couldn't help himself. He laughed. It was a bitter horrible laugh, there was no humour in it. It shocked everyone in the room, including Sam.

“You're sorry, for what? You didn't put me there. I did. I sold my soul Kevin. I willingly went to a crossroad and sold my soul.” Dean blurted out while shocking them at that. They were probably trying to figure out what was so important that Dean would willingly sell his soul that eventually put him on a Rack. If they looked at the guilt on Sam's face they would have that answer. Dean winced inwardly, he didn't mean to make Sam feel like shit.

“I don't regret it. I had a good reason to do it, after all Linda nearly auctioned her own soul for you. I sold my soul for Sam... My pain in the ass brother is worth it though.” Dean said, still addressing Kevin before getting up and putting his plate in the sink and leaving the room before anything else could be asked or any sort of a chick flick moment could happen.

Dean ended up going outside and on the front porch of the new place they were staying at. The lawn was overgrown with grass and weeds. Not that it mattered, they were secluded enough that most couldn't see the yard or much of the house they were staying at now. Two stories and Mother and Son slept upstairs while Sam and Dean took the downstairs.

The porch had four steps, old looking and in need of repair but sturdy enough to do what they were required to do. Dean sat on the top one because he wasn't in a mood to deal with slivers in the ass. Dean wouldn't deny that he felt anger now at the situation. Talking about Alastair so willingly and so openly, it wasn't something he should be able to do. But he did and he said a bit too much. Betrayed someone who might turn out to be himself. But what else was new.

Dean heard the door open and close before a presence sat beside him in silence. Looking over he noted that Sam brought two bottles of beer with him. A peace offering of sorts no doubt. Dean found himself sighing inwardly at that. He left the house to avoid chick flick moments or anything along that line. Yet it seemed like it followed him outside.

Dean accepted the drink when it was offered to him.

“I'm sorry. I knew he was topside, I shouldn't have let them talk about it so freely. Why didn't you tell me who helped you sooner? Why did you feel like you had to keep this from me rather then just telling me about it a month and a half ago and only because I made you.” Sam said, Dean seethed and shifted uncomfortably while he picked at the label of his drink absentmindedly. What could he say to that? What could be said?

“It's fine Sam and I didn't tell you guys because I couldn't... I couldn't bring myself to say his name let alone tell you guys about it. Do you know how much shame that part of my life still brings me? I have nightmares still about the things that I did, the things that has been done to me. Purgatory wasn't much better, the only difference was I was all flesh and bone and no racks or blades. There was plenty of other fish out there for him to gut or torture. Cas was there too, so it's not like anything horrible happened.” Dean found himself blurting out, what was wrong with him today? He wasn't censoring his words like he should! Dean felt more anger shift in him. Not to mention he downsized and failed to mention that things did happen and they weren't what Sam would expect.

The pleading expression shifted to one of Sam's more concerned looks and Dean had to look away.

“Dean...” Sam started and despite how much Dean cared for Sam, he didn't like the sympathy or perhaps pity found his brother's voice. Dean finds things like that set him on edge.

“Leave it Sam. Just leave it.” Dean snapped, making it clear that this was as much sharing as he can handle for now. Sam seemed to have gotten the message because he gave a sigh that told Dean that he resigned himself to the fact that this was as far as Dean would go in talking.

It took another five minutes for Dean being stiff and Sam to leave and head back into the house. Dean knows that everyone in the house was now reluctant to talk and didn't know how to react. After all, Dean laid some heavy stuff onto them. Dean glared at the ground for a good five more minutes before standing up and with a quick shout letting Sam and the others know he's going for a walk, Dean took off on foot. He didn't know where he was going he just needed to get ride of some of his energy and tension.

Shockingly enough he had to admit to himself that before these three and a half months he was using his in person reports with Crowley to get ride of his tension to some degree even though it left him incredibly unnerved in the end. But what else was new? His whole life, his job and how he does things leaves him either torn or unnerved. It was just how things were.

Dean found himself at the end of the street, his phone still had service and Dean trailed through missed calls and his texts. For missed calls he didn't have any, not many people really phoned him because Dean wasn't the social type and he's been in Purgatory for a year so he didn't have time to really find anyone stupid enough to contact him. Texts were deleted as they came, no new ones. And so far aside from the odd 'where are you' texts from Sam or texts that deal with hunts, Alastair was the only one readily contacting him. Crowley hasn't for the three and a half months where the reigns were either passed on to Alastair or the demon King was busy.

Dean didn't really know he was doing it until he found the phone at his ear and an answer that should have chilled him to the bone from the other end. But it didn't, and Dean hated that it didn't. Dean hated even more at how uncertain he felt, this wasn't him and yet he was sitting here talking on the phone to Alastair.

He confessed to Alastair what he said.

“And how did they take it?” Alastair ended up asking him, Dean winced and wondered if the pleased sound on the other end of the phone was a good thing or not. Or was Alastair just buying his time before he guts Dean for incompetence or something. Alastair hated to be kept waiting and hated when he didn't get an answer. Dean knows he doesn't have to, this is just a conversation over the phone.

Yet...

“Not to well. They...” Dean said, he noticed though despite his pause his voice was becoming more steady. He was getting used to speaking with Alastair the longer they were on the phone. Not a good thing, Dean knows this.

“Yes?” Alastair pushed and Dean could almost picture the smile spreading across both the true form of the demon and the vessel. Dean was more familiar with the natural form of the demon though. The vessel Alastair was using wasn't bad either, he had to reluctantly admit that to himself. Though Dean refuses to think about who that sorry person was before Alastair picked him to use.

“They don't know everything though, they just know you're topside and that I was around you in Purgatory.” Dean explained and wincing inwardly at his own stupidity for falling into the old routine of answering and explaining things to a demon who would cut the answer out of him either way.

The conversation didn't and won't last long. Dean doesn't want it to, he shouldn't have spoken this much. Yet on impulse it was Dean who made the call. Oddly enough though, Dean couldn't decide whether or not he regretted it. It was normal to talk to Alastair in Purgatory for that year and for forty years Alastair was the only one to talk to except for the odd demon who came around. Perhaps it could just be called a bad habit?

Alastair must have picked up the change in Dean, or a change that Dean might not be too familiar with somehow.

“I'm in a bind Dean, stomach or desecration of something lower.”

Dean found anything he could have said to be instantly silenced by the shock that Alastair would ask a question like that. Would have the audacity to even bring something like that up. But then again this was Alastair and Dean was his student at one time. Horror and something much worse gripped at him.

For a split second he almost answered. For a split second he almost wanted to answer and give his own suggestions on what to do. Dean reminded himself that there was someone on the other end of that suggestion. Someone who was going to be experiencing one or both of those things.

Dean did the only thing left for him to do in his torn state. He hung up.

Stomach or desecration of something lower. Those were the options! And Alastair asked as if it was a normal question, like hot dogs and burgers. Pie or cake. Right or left. Hand or foot. Dean ended up vomiting behind the spot he sat and hated himself just as much as he hated the question Alastair asked of him. Dean had to force that from his mind unsuccessfully as he stood up and made his way back to the house they were using. All the while feeling chilled despite the sun on his back.

Topside really was colder then he remembered.

Dean made it to the door silently and listened for any conversations that might be damning on their part for a moment. Hearing nothing he entered and found Kevin checking over his notes and Linda in the kitchen. Sam was on a couch and hunched over his laptop. Research no doubt, or talking to Amelia online. Dean wanted to tell him to just hold on, Dean had that taken care of. He just doesn't know when.

After all everything he's doing is for Sam. All of it for Sam.

He'll put up with his own situation for as long as it takes to get Sam in the life his little brother deserves. Even though Dean wouldn't be apart of that life. Dean excused himself to go have a shower. Because he felt like he needed it now more then before. No one questioned it.

The second the door closed his phone rang. Dean frowned and answered it reluctantly. It was Crowley and it was an order. Dean who was in a sense a double agent had no choice but to listen and do what he's told as much as he hates it. This was for Sam, it was all for Sam and Dean made sure Crowley knows this every time he speaks to the demon. It pretty much came down to I'll do what you want me to but you have to make sure Sam isn't killed or hurt in any way. Crowley usually tells him that he'll make sure the moose isn't killed but no promises about being unharmed.

Shaking himself from that thought he listened.

“I want the tablet.” With that the line went dead on the other end. Dean felt a lump form in his throat. So here it goes, now it really starts to get messy and harder for him. Before it was just reports and sex he didn't know if he wanted half the time. Now it was openly and physically betraying everyone.

But this was for Sam...

Sam was worth it...

Dean heard the front door and Sam calling his name. Dean frowned and put his phone away before going to check out what was going on. His gun ready to be used without hesitation. However standing at the top of the stairs he nearly drops it at seeing who it was.

“Hello Dean.”


	11. An Unofficial Step Two

Standing on the precipice leading to not one but two powerful beings. Crowley held an cold expression as he regarded the never ending hole that forever echoed the sounds of angry and pained wailing and the fluttering and tearing of wings over and over again. The cage itself rattled as two angry beings circled each other and was forced to rub up against each other in fits of rage and cramped situations. There was a soul in there still, just one. It had to deal with the blow of not one but two angry things.

They were things to Crowley because that was what they were. Sure one was his creator indirectly because Lucifer was locked away when Crowley came to be, but the Fallen Archangel was the father of his kind. The other was nothing but a possible threat.

Surrounding Crowley was a large area, not caged in or hallways like other parts of Hell. Here there were tree's blackened by fire and heat with each branch directed out and up as though reaching for aid. For the pain to stop. Eerie and not something random souls like to be surrounded with. The ground underneath his feet crunched from being dried and heated until glass. Interesting considering not even a hundred years ago this area looked completely different. Crowley thinks there might have been a river of blood somewhere.

Surrounding the massive whole were large hellhounds and daeva's.

Neither bothered Crowley.

Without any further hesitation he started the ritual that would take about a month down here, topside not even a day would have passed if that considering the time difference. And this was something that had to be done. Crowley was going to seal the hole up completely and cover it with other parts of hell. He will have to do so topside as well, he didn't want either of these two escaping again. And despite how Hell seems to be forever shifting it could be done, the seal would just move with Hell just unseen by everything except the exceptionally sensitive. Enochian was being used as well to keep meddling angels out of this as well.

But this will exhaust him temporarily, doing magic like this wasn't a small feat and something to scoff at. Crowley knows he'll have to hide himself away for a short time, but that was okay he already had things in motion. And orders that were already handed out, all of which leaving no room for debate.

Alastair had his duties to perform and the last time he checked in via phone call he could tell things were going along quite nicely. Crowley still had every intention of dealing a final blow if the Torturer betrays him, it would be a pity to lose such a talented demon but on the plus side he had a back up plan in the works if he needed another talented torturer.

Though the last order he officially gave was to Dean himself, his back up plan. Dean already belonged to Hell as it was, so it was by no surprise that Crowley would have him work for it too. Crowley knows that this time around there was no escaping because there wasn't just one demon sealed to the contract, there was two. And there was no one in Heaven who needed to wear the elder Winchester as a meat suite or have him serve some supposed righteous purpose. No one was going to be able to save Dean from this fate just like no one saved him the last time Dean's soul was torn from his body by claws and fangs of a Hellhound.

To put it simply, Crowley wanted the Word of God about Demons. Kevin and the Winchester brothers have it. At least Dean didn't have to go hunting for it, thankfully because Crowley would find that beyond annoying. He didn't want to wait for long.

Without any further hesitation Crowley started the process of sealing the large hole stretched out in front of him.

Screams of rage and anger echoed up to him. Warning him not to do this, Lucifer and Michael shared a purpose and Crowley smiled as he continued. They silenced themselves and let the damaged soul of Adam be heard loud and clear. To tempt him with a soul he might want, a bargain that Crowley ignored. What would he want with one damaged soul when he had the soul of the righteous man coming to Hell again and no doubt other souls coming in. Some from deals, others from poor choices.

When that didn't work, Crowley had to listen to the angry insults and threats.

He ignored all of it. Even the promises of revenge and pain. Crowley couldn't help but reply to that one with a quiet,  
“You'd have to get out of there first darlings.” It was a taunt and it was taken as an insult in full.

One week in total it took him to start sealing up one of the four selected area's around the whole housing the cage. Crowley double checked it and checked it once more to make sure it was done without any flaws or weak points. He couldn't have someone hearing a faint echo of what is beyond this part of the seal.

Moving confidently to the next chosen spot he noted a meek demon approaching him, cautious and afraid to set foot near the hole or perhaps it was the daeva's taunting and threatening the weak little thing. Crowley calmly beckoned the demon closer. Not having to say a word or hint at what he wanted. The demon fell to it's knee's and didn't dare look up.

Obedient and fearful. A useful state.

“Yes?” Crowley pushed after savouring the state the demon let itself be seen in.

“Sir, I just witnessed something that is possibly angels slipping from a forced entry to Purgatory. Freeing someone...” The demon, Crowley didn't know if it had a name yet. Young demons rarely had names and sometimes adopted the names of their meat suites. It wasn't until they were older that the earned or gained a name like Crowley did.

But the words that the demon was saying was concerning. Could it possibly mean that something raised Castiel from Purgatory? That was a disturbing question but also promising because Crowley did have a taste for revenge and he wondered if Alastair could break this angel too. After all he spent a year or close to that with Castiel in Purgatory while sharing Dean's attention with the said angel. If you can even call Castiel an angel now.

“Can you confirm it was angels, or were you daydreaming?” Crowley questioned, fearing and knowing the answer the demon is going to get but it never hurts to have someone confirm what you're already suspecting.

“Yes sir. Angels. I don't know how many, I was sealing a deal when I witnessed it. The light nearly killed me. But not as much came out as there was going in.” The demon with no name and probably never going to get one if all hunters adopt the method of killing demons rather then exorcising demons. Not that it mattered, there were already many demons in the making so nameless ones like this can be replaced like a common worker can.

“Leave.” Crowley ordered. He wasn't happy with the news, and the demon fled before Crowley could do anything irrational.

So Castiel has returned to Earth with some divine help. Crowley will have to deal with that as soon as he's able to. First things first though. He has to finish what he started here. Then he'll have to reconfirm that he still wants Dean to get him the tablet, Castiel or no Castiel.

It did make him wonder, would Dean try to get out of his deal now that he had some help from a heavy hitter? That would be very foolish considering who the deal benefits in the end. And Dean would do anything for Sam because to Dean it was always about Sam. Dean was raised like that from what Crowley found out. It served to help Crowley better in the end, and no doubt helped many others as well.

Crowley wondered how Alastair would take the news as well, Crowley faintly hoped to be able to tell the elder demon the bad news himself.

Without anything further, he started the next part of the spell to seal off this part of the hole. It would take about a week like the first part. The rest of the chosen spots would be the same. Crowley had to be very thorough in this. He wanted no mistakes, which was why he was doing it himself. The whole if you wanted something done right, so on and so forth.

Behind him Hellhounds howled and tree's groaned as the entire area shifted slightly from the force sealing he was doing. Crowley ignored it enough to focus on what he was doing while being wary enough about his surroundings so that he didn't fall into a situation that was all around unnecessary.

By the time the second part of the seal was finished Crowley could already feel the drain of energy and Crowley had to take a breath for his own sake while eyeing the daeva's cautiously because they never take weakness lightly and would attack if they spotted anything close to it. Crowley was glad for the Hellhounds, they have a habit of fighting daeva's when they start showing aggression. This entire area was a battle ground.

Why else do you think souls would avoid this area?

Well besides the obvious. Crowley checked the seal over and smiled in satisfaction as the cage echoed angry sounds of indignant trapped angels. Crowley knows that if they ever got out he was done for. Which was why he was protecting his own neck by doing this and so he didn't have to worry about loyalists trying to rise up with new orders that could damn everything all over again. Including demons.

He was still angry at the stupidity of demons in thinking that Lucifer would have led them to something better. Most if not all demons were human once and Lucifer hates all humans. How can you not draw the conclusion of what that means?

With renewed intentions Crowley moved onto the third and a week after that the last part of the seal. The angered sounds didn't sound as loud with most of the whole being covered and Hell rolling over the seal like it was just another empty space to put tree's and souls on top. Crowley would keep souls away from here, souls were power and he didn't want to mess anything up if he could help it.

Before he finished it however Crowley crouched down, knowing they could hear him.

“Dear Lucifer, I would not have done what I did if you were all that you were suppose to live up to but in truth all you are is an overgrown child throwing a tantrum. Myself I am a business man with my eye on the ball and big plans that don't involve destroying everything. I seek to rule.

Dear Michael. I hope you enjoy it in there, at least you weren't sealed up alone like your little brother. And the righteous man, your true vessel won't be leaving offspring to be future vessels. In fact, your righteous man will become mine and will take his place as Alastair's loyal student and my pet. Sam doesn't seem that interested in spreading the gene pool any time soon either.” Crowley knows that saying what he did is petty and could rile them further. But in truth, he didn't care. He said his piece and with parting good bye's he sealed the last of it shut.

One day someone will try to break in or worse something tries to come out.

Crowley will just have to prepare for that day in any way that he could. It was a day that Crowley hoped didn't come anytime soon or even in a thousand years topside.

With the seal created Crowley focused on which location he wanted to go and simply reappeared in the living room. The rather large mansion he was occupying at this moment was a different one then the one he used when sealing the deal with Dean and Alastair. This place is where he contains the Colt, something he came into possession again after the failed attempt on Lucifer's life. This was also where he keeps his most prized Hellhounds.

They were the biggest and meanest out of any other litter of pups he managed to breed. These ones were as pure as he could get them, coming down from a long line of Hounds leading right back to Fenrir itself. Any other Hellhound was a lesser breed in Crowley's mind, mangy mutts as far as he's concerned.

Sitting down he felt the breath of one of his pups on his hand. With a slight move he was petting it behind the ear. Most who see them interacting with him wouldn't guess that they were savage and very thorough in their job's. But then again, Crowley was their master and everything else was just chew toys or possible meals.

“Good boys.” Crowley stated as he pet the second one who came up on his other side. Snarls and happy sounds came from the both of them. Hellhounds like these ones wouldn't be something any demon could handle, they were harder to manage then any other Hellhound due to the purity in their blood. Crowley wasn't complaining, he managed to get them trained at a young age. Thankfully.

Getting up simply for a drink he stood by a window regarding the wooded lands around him. It was secluded, which left him with the full right to let his pups out whenever he wanted and not worry about children or adults being dragged back to his door to show him what they did. His pups were like kids like that, they always liked to show him what they caught. He found a moose last time he was here. It barely had anything left on it's bones. But there his pups were, tails wagging as they waited to show him their good work.

How can he ignore such devotion like that? He congratulated them and then bathed them down before he even let them set one paw in his house. They polished off the moose the next day. Even bears didn't take his pups on. Clever things. With one last sip of his drink he moved back to his chair stepping around one large hound before sitting down. Both phones out.

They both had messages. One from a possible author who wants his books published and was willing to pay a steep price to have it done, Crowley saved the number before moving onto his other phone and smiling at the message.

_'Cas is alive and here...'_

Dean was still keeping up with his part of the deal of keeping Crowley informed, and by the looks of it doing it more without attitude most likely due to Alastair's taking care of the problem or the fact that for a few months and a half it was Alastair who had the most contact with the boy.

Crowley decided to for once reply to the text with a calm, _'I know and it doesn't change a thing. I want the Word of God.'_ With that said and done Crowley put both phones away and focused on relaxing for the rest of the day. At least ten to twelve days here on Earth have passed since Crowley started sealing up a hole that could prove to be an escape route for two undesirables.

Castiel being topside rather then in Purgatory was probably the activity from Heaven that Crowley did notice some time earlier. It made sense this time around. And Crowley wasn't really liking that fact at all. He now had more work cut out for him in the form of making sure that Heaven wasn't up to something or still as active as ever. He didn't want any more surprises and he had to admit to himself that bringing back that treacherous angel was a nasty surprise in itself.

He had every intention of dealing with Castiel when the time came. Alastair would want to torture him, but Crowley just wanted him dead. Torturing Castiel could warrant unnecessary behaviour from Dean and right now Dean had a purpose that Crowley wanted him to finish first even though Alastair no doubt would love to re-shatter his student and fix him in Alastair's image once again.

~ Castiel Cameo ~

Castiel stood in the living room staring out in scrutiny. Eyes narrowed in suspicion as he took in the past days since his return to Earth. He has yet to set foot in Heaven, he didn't want to. He didn't want to face the damage he has done, the horrors he left behind with his foolish childish mistakes. Castiel was a being far older then others and so he should have known better.

But then Dean always considered him human-like. That was his flaw and his gift. That left a wide range of mistakes to be made and learning to be done. Something many of his brothers and sisters won't have a chance to learn and some that didn't embrace the chance Castiel has tried to give them.

He did not know how he escaped. He didn't plan to escape. Whether that was his decision on his own or whether it had Alastair's manipulation written in it was beyond Castiel at the moment. Now however it changes nothing, Castiel was back and his vessel was cleaned of the dirt and sin from Purgatory.

On the surface anyway.

He still felt the phantom touches left on his skin by his charge. Dean. His friend. His only living friend left aside from Sam. This broken group was all Castiel had to cling to. And there was tension boiling under the surface, tension he did not expect and it concerned him. Dean especially. He was worried about Dean the most.

Something wasn't right. Dean seemed to cling to a phone and pushed buttons once every so often. Checking, sending messages. But to who? He has not been on Earth long enough to get in touch with a lover. A surge of emotions curled in Castiel that had him tensing where he stood, hands in fists in his pockets. Or perhaps not a lover at all, a better thought. But it soon followed a worse scenario. Was Dean in contact with Alastair? What came of the demon? Was Dean free of him?

Castiel didn't sense anything demonic here, so Alastair obviously was not here. Then where was the demon? That was a question he will have to force out of Dean, for the days that he has been in this place he has unsuccessfully cornered Dean. Dean tensed away from him at times. What did he do to deserve Dean's rejection, or perhaps it was what happened both in Purgatory and before?

“I'm going for supplies.” Dean said as he walked out the front door. Dean never said groceries like Sam did. Dean did not want to label it that even though it was what it was. However that wasn't the point, this was Castiel's chance to speak with Dean in private. Setting his mind to it in typical take no for an answer fashion Castiel followed Dean stating that he would go with Dean.

Sam thought it was a good idea and said so. Dean had no choice beyond that. Reluctantly the elder Winchester waited in the driver seat of the Impala. Castiel even admitted to himself that he did miss riding in the confining vehicle. Almost as much as he missed television.

Halfway there Castiel turned the music off ignoring the instant protest and tensing that accompanied it.

“We need to talk Dean. Now.” Castiel stated and Dean pulled the car over. Giving Castiel the time he needed to do so before they reach their destination. But now that he had it, Castiel found himself unsure of what to say first. This was not his area of expertise. He was a soldier, a warrior of God not a typical messenger or someone granted the gift of conversation. He obeyed and he destroyed and at times he saved souls. Talking wasn't in his job description you could say.

“About.” Dean demanded, the car now turned off and silence choked the area.

“About what happened in Purgatory.” Castiel clarified leaving no room to get around it, there was none as far as Castiel could see and he could make sure Dean could not leave this car or turn it on until this was done. It was a necessary situation. Dean was tense and seemed to hold onto the steering wheel as though it was an anchor and Castiel felt sorrow curl in him at the fact that Dean found that to be necessary.

“You're going to have to be more specific then that a lot of shit happened.” Dean said, not looking at Castiel and that was mildly unacceptable and perhaps rude. Still Castiel made no move to correct that behaviour. Instead pushed forward in this situation because there was no going back now.

Dean wanted more specific's so Castiel shall give them freely. For Dean it seems he gives everything he can and everything beyond that. Perhaps this was what love felt like, he did not know. He only really understood devotion and loyalty to his Father and his Creator and to his brothers and sisters. Kinship was the next thing underneath that. Friendship soon after. Love and lust did not enter the mix until he has met Dean.

“The sexual intercourse. Alastair, the fact that you assisted him to escape Purgatory in a deal to get out.” Castiel explained, specifics in a summary form. Still the point was understood and Dean hissed as though burnt. This was not a conversation the Winchester wanted to have but it cannot be avoided any longer.

“Does Sam know?” Castiel asked, perhaps not a good question but an important one all the same. So he was not going to take it back.

“Know what! That I got fucked by a demon while fucked an angel! That I... That I escaped with a demon and left my only friend to rot! That Alastair is roaming around on Earth doing who knows what! No Cas, Sam doesn't know. He didn't...” Dean yelled, anger coursing through his body and into his words. With an angry sound he tried to get out of the car only to send a nasty glare at Castiel who let Dean out of the car to keep things in some form of order.

Castiel must have had an expression on his face though that made Dean feel horrible because he recoiled as he picked a spot on the side of the road to stare off to. Castiel knows that he gave something up that he shouldn't have. And with how Dean was acting, it would not be returned.

“You cannot feel bad for that Dean, I knew that I would not be able to follow and I am sorry you were in that position in the first place. With Alastair. With me.” Castiel said calmly as he approached Dean calmly, staring at Dean while Dean stared at nothing but what his mind is no doubt seeing. Castiel wanted to council him, comfort. In the end though he made no move because Dean would reject that.

“You... You love me.” Dean said quietly in a broken voice that Castiel hasn't heard before. Like the idea was foreign to him. Castiel wanted to assure him that it was not something foreign because it was right here. Right now. But it was something that couldn't be given in return because something was holding Dean back and cutting that tie with savage strokes of a rusted blade.

“You love me in a way you shouldn't... You're an angel, I'm a broken human. I'm damned Cas, I'm shattered and wrong and twisted. At one time maybe, maybe I could have found a way to love you back. Find a way to do that for you. But now I can't... I just can't.” Dean said, for once the exterior removed long enough for Dean to reveal himself to Castiel in the most unexpected of ways and it won't be there for long because by the time they get back into that car it would be as though it never happened and perhaps it shouldn't have.

Castiel was not human, that was true. He did not think like one and did not understand things like a human can. But he understood what this was. It was a rejection. It was something he should have expected but did not. A foolish novice mistake, but one that he will live with because Castiel was an angel who made a lot of them.

Castiel knew he gave too much away. He was such a foolish broken thing as well. Perhaps Dean was right, their edges were too torn and rough to be shoved together as you would see lovers and couples.

“Lets get moving...” Dean said, voice with no emotion and the situation was already pushed away. Dean had a skill for denial and Castiel loathed him for it at times. With a nod Castiel followed and wondered what else Dean would have said but didn't. Sam didn't what? And why did Dean consider himself damned? Questions Castiel would have to figure out another day.


	12. Shared Facts and Sweet Memories

Meg has recently escaped.

Or to put it more accurately, Alastair let her go after getting the information from her and then sending Crowley's demons after the crypts. Without Crowley's permission, though Alastair was never one to seek out permission right off the bat. Even with Lilith at times, though it always led to interesting punishments and pained pleasure. Alastair was already a masochist and a sadist so he couldn't complain. Well, there was that one time he had to have a tea party with her as a punishment. Devious little thing.

All the dolls Alastair made for her over the eons that has passed sat with them. Dolls misshapen and twisted visions of innocent toys topside. Souls of children she has stolen were shoved and cut into the dolls leaving the dolls forever weeping and screaming for their mommy's and daddy's.

The door to the torture room flung off the hinges letting fresh air into the room for the first time in a week. The smell of blood, rot and urine has built up and Crowley showed no sign of acknowledgement to that. He was after all a demon through and through. So that little tidbit didn't really cause that much of a surprise in Alastair. Instead he just regarded the demon with an icy expression. Five of the lights in the room were burnt out leaving shadows reaching and scratching across the room and those occupying it. Gives it a certain atmosphere and Alastair ended up having one of his test subjects eat glass with the broken glass from the burnt out bulbs.

He fed some to Meg as well, she hates the taste of glass in her dewy body's mouth. That same bloodied and broken mouth asked him one question.

_“Why?”_

It was an obvious question, one that Alastair was really disappointed in getting. Surely she could understand why. Alastair had no obligation to be loyal to any soul if they do not give him reason to be possessive of the said soul or demon or whatever else he decides he wants to keep as a pet or student or patient.

_“Why not? I get to continue my research.” Alastair ended up answering her, she wasn't happy with the answer. Spewing off on how he could have taken over Hell easy, that he could have defeated Crowley in no time and then he could have all the test subjects he wanted. But really, who would want to be stuck in the lime light and dealing with politics?_

Alastair explained all of that to her, bluntly and with no emotion. He then carried on with insulting her and her creativity. Or lack thereof. Surely he has taught her better then this? Perhaps it was the humanity oozing from her. Somewhere along the way she began to care. Somewhere along the way she started to redeem herself. He was so very disappointed in her and he made her know that. Even told her that her father would be disgusted with her.

She sobbed like a child.

“Do you have any idea what you have done!” Crowley snarled, drawing Alastair's lazy attention to the self dubbed demon King. Alastair regarded him for a moment before a shrug was given, it only enraged the demon further and that was obvious with the flash of red in the usually calm and in controlled Crowley.

Five steps in and Crowley was closer to where Alastair stood. It would be so easy to squeeze the life out of him from here, break the vessel and force the demon out with a single thought. And Alastair could do it. He has done it to less and more then Crowley many times, most if not all demons in his days feared him for that one reason. No one mocked him for anything and those that did learnt why you shouldn't.

“She escaped! You let her go, there's no other explanation then that! Do you realize what she could tell those idiots?” Crowley growled out, and with it another flash of red. Today Crowley truly was angry and not just posturing. Though with anger comes the ability to be a bit or fully irrational. Crowley was smart, a clever little bastard that even Alastair had to admit to. If he was thinking he would know that this would benefit them in the long run.

All he had to do was think. It was a good thing that Alastair was currently on his side, though loyalty between demons didn't always happen unless a younger demon was adopted or taken under the wing by an older or more powerful demon. When it did happen though, it can be a powerful connection that could shatter empires and regimes. Betrayal is punishable by death, but the matter of who dies is up to who wins. It had a twisted and brutal beauty to it.

“I know. And I hope she tells them everything. Think about it Crowley, I know you got a brain I cut it open many times before.” Alastair calmly said, though there was no question that this was a taunt. Alastair was treating the King of Hell as a child, like he was a young demon just starting to rise through the ranks.

Of course, Crowley was to enraged to just listen and Alastair found his vessels insides being squeezed and liquified. That was going to take a few minutes to heal whenever Crowley loosened up the pressure. Alastair snarled, baring his teeth while his own eyes slipped from the vessels pupils to white. Cursing angrily in a language so old that only demons like himself really understood what he was saying. A twisted opposing form of Enochian.

Alastair was never one to take things without retaliation or defending himself. With a push of his own ability he had Crowley on his knees and threatening to smoke out of that vessel. Not that Alastair's was fairing any better as annoying as that was. They both were on their knees glaring each other down.

“You! You truly are a foolish boy Crowley or should I start referring to you as Fergus again? Strap you to my rack and carve that drawing conclusions too fast right out of you again!” Alastair hissed out angrily as he forced himself to his feet, normally he would rejoice at the sweet agony but his own annoyance turned to anger so enjoyment would have to come after.

“Do not threaten me Alastair!” Crowley spat back at him, joining Alastair who was standing up again. They were in each others face. There was no question who could defeat who, but where Alastair had the power it was Crowley who had the audacity to push those limits. Alastair wasn't afraid to do something like that, however he was no longer young so he didn't seek out who to push his luck with. They came to him and tested their bravery and cunning against him always ending in failure.

“Do not push your luck then. Stop your irrational behaviour and think like someone of your rank aught to rather then acting like a freshly made demon jumping into situations with poor thinking.” Alastair forced out, standing up straight while glaring down at the shorter demon through his own white eyes rather then the icy pupils of his vessel. Crowley had to step away for a moment, pacing and thinking.

In essence it took fifteen minutes for the angered demon to calm down and think fully, a cruel smile spread across his face that signalled to Alastair that he caught on and Alastair didn't even have to tell him what the whole idea behind it was.

“Isolation. You're driving them apart.” Crowley stated happily as he casually walked over to Alastair who regarded him through his vessels eyes once more rather then the white glass appearing ones. They both calmed down some, but not fully. They both no doubt wanted to hurt something now. Or someone.

“You want to slow them down in what they're doing. Then kill the trust between them. While you were busy they managed to kill a Hellhound.” Alastair calmly stated. He smiled because really, he forgot to inform Crowley of that fact. Dean informed him half way through his torture of Meg. Speaking to Dean right in the same room as a whimpering Meg. All the while Crowley was finishing up with his sealing business in Hell. Even when he came back topside Alastair didn't inform him. Let the demon rest but not out of kindness, Alastair wasn't one to be kind unless that kindness cut deeper the cruelty.

“And when were you going to inform me of this.” Crowley said, anger creeping back into his voice. The situation was getting more concerning but they both knew the risks here. The Gates of Hell were in the process of being closed. One down two to go. And Heaven was on the move as well. Doing what exactly was beyond even Alastair. But knowing the King of Hell, he probably had someone on his payroll to fill in the gaps.

“I just did. They're on the move to the second trial. A reaper is assisting them on that. Or so Dean say's.” Alastair casually answered while regarding Crowley passively as the demon circled the room for a moment before approaching Alastair for the third time since he blown through Alastair's door.

A sharp stab of pain pierced his back. The tip of an angel's killing blade poked out of his stomach. Not a killing blow but this one hurt more then the hit to his shoulder. Alastair was brought to his knees and laughed.

“You have guts, I'll give you that much.” Alastair said both in pain and in amusement. Really not many demons would have the guts to do this to him and be willing to stay within killing range of him. A hard grip in his hair pulled his head back while his mouth was attacked. Pain did get him aroused at times, so he had no problem kissing back. The blade was pulled out and Alastair hissed into Crowley's mouth and chuckled when the other demon pulled away.

“And I take it you know what the second trial is then. They finally figured that part out?” Crowley asked as though he didn't just stab someone in the back or standing in a room with some living and some dead humans strapped to racks. The dead ones were missing limbs or carved open completely and turned into Alastair's versions of art.

“They have to rescue a soul from Hell and release it.” Alastair answered with a shrug before knocking Crowley onto his back and straddling him, a grin on his face would tell the King of Hell that he shouldn't start things without finishing them. He angered Alastair, harmed him and aroused him. Few can do that and live to tell the tale.

Crowley didn't fight him fully, but there was still caution even as pants were removed and bodies joined in an intimate act. Rocking, thrusting and hurting was involved. There was no vanilla behaviour to this act, it was blood and anger and dominance. Both demanding more and taking all that much more. The humans still living looked horrified. Cuts, hard gripping, biting and growling silenced them on their racks. It really didn't even carry the appearance of sex either. If it wasn't for their connection, it would be hard to tell.

Completion came quickly and came harshly.

Neither really complained even as they stood up and fixed bloodied and torn clothing. The flesh they wore was just the same as the clothing clinging to two dimensional canvases here.

“That's not all. You know of Castiel's return no doubt, Dean would have told you that much. But not about the trials, he's still a bit resisting. That won't last too long if things go as well as I figure they will. However that isn't what is amusing at the moment.” Alastair casually said as he simply used his own power to fix his insides again.

Alastair simply disappeared from the torture room to his bedroom in the Asylum. Crowley followed him, his suite already clean and proper. Magic no doubt, not that it was surprising considering the fact that his mother was a Witch and Alastair knows that the demon decided to learn more for that reason but not out of love. In regards to Alastair's appearance, he seemed to be amused enough to clean himself up the human way. For now.

“Well?” Crowley pushed as he sat down in a lovely homemade chair that matched the desk with notebooks now stalked up on it. Alastair's research while he was topside and everything was fine quality because the demon was picky on what he used and how he used it. You would see this in regards to the tools he decides to use when breaking a soul or a living body.

“To simply put it, your former business partner is in love with Dean. Dean informed me himself, Castiel practically confessed this to him without actually having to say it. Just not deny it when Dean states it. They had a conversation, turns out Dean already confessed to Castiel that he was damned.” Alastair calmly said as he buttoned up a clean new shirt. Light blue over top the muscle shirt he wore underneath. This gained a laughter out of Crowley. They both knew that this could do more harm then good, Dean as it was is the worst person for feelings of the heart or mind for that matter.

And that suited Alastair just fine, neither of them were into your everyday example of feelings of the heart. At one time to the both of them, a chick flick moment consisted of blood and knives and stabbing for attention. Honest and more alluring in Alastair's opinion. It had a certain air to it that Alastair couldn't deny.

“Really?” Crowley now had the clear sound of amusement on his voice. Though it was obvious that he was going to hunt down the reaper who was helping the Winchesters. Even before Crowley could ask Alastair tossed him his phone with the name of the reaper on it. Dean wasn't the one to give this information though, Alastair had to find it on his own.

Dean didn't want to put his brother or the soul they have to save at risk. A frail hope still lingered in Dean that if he closed those gates then the deal he made with them wouldn't matter. But the domino's were set up and now all Alastair had to do was wait until that faint hope is put out for good.

Then came the work of rebuilding Dean from the ground up again, fixing the damage the angels have done on him. Then the perfection Alastair forged and found would be proper again.

“What's this?” Crowley pointedly asked, amusement gone and it was back to business. That was fine with Alastair, sometimes he preferred work over play. It was often more fulfilling for him.

“The reaper that's going to help them assist the save a soul from Hell.” Alastair explained and watched as Crowley took a closer look at the name on the phone for a moment before typing it into his own and sending it with orders no doubt for whatever demon unlucky enough to be on the other end of that phone.

While the current King of Hell was busy Alastair decided to go down memory lane of how he got this information from Dean. It wasn't over the phone. Alastair made sure he went still covered with the blood of a latest subject.

_Alastair contacted Dean and told him without a doubt meet him at a bar. Not very classy considering the bar was a seedy one and the sin Alastair tasted had him thinking up imaginative ways of stringing up all the occupants in such lovely ways. Even going so far as daydreaming about the blood splatter and pools on the ground._

_Dean didn't take long to meet him here and was constantly looking over his shoulder. Turns out Castiel didn't want to let Dean leave his sight, good thing the angel had trust in Dean to not follow unseen. Most demons would wait for Alastair to invite them to sit down. Dean however wasn't a demon and had more balls then most of them as he automatically sat down beside Alastair._

_“What do you want.” Dean hissed out as he indicated that he wanted a beer. The lovely cheating husband handed Dean his drink and fled, Alastair gave him the creeps and was thoroughly enjoying it. Two years now and the pudgy man would be decorating a rack._

_“Most people speak to me with more respect.” Alastair reminded his former student and watched as he stiffened and shifted uncomfortably. Alastair enjoyed it and took the cap off of Dean's drink for him. The bartender forgot in his hasty retreat._

_A choked apology came from Dean and a nod to say that he was forgiven._

_“Why did you call me.” Dean asked, not with as much attitude but still with hollow defiance. Alastair loved that with his boy, such delectable emotions to taste and play with. The boy crumbles and reforms so beautifully._

_“Follow me.” Alastair ordered as he stood up, Dean barely got a sip out of his drink. Alastair would buy him another one if the boy stuck around afterwards. But he doubted that._

_“Where.” Dean cautiously asked while fighting the temptation to just stand. It was Alastair's tone that had the boy nearly obeying without thought._

_“I'm not saying it twice boy.” Alastair warned and Dean winced and hated himself for it as he followed Alastair into the male's bathroom. Sneering at the mess but deciding the soiled aspect of it fit for whatever conversation he wanted to have. One look from Alastair had even the largest of people leave. Instinct not wanting them to tempt fate. Indicating that Dean was to lock the door Alastair waited with his back turned to Dean._

_He let Dean circle around to Alastair's front._

Alastair remembered sweetly that he demanded a report out of Dean, and Dean didn't give it. Instead put up a fuss and fought Alastair about it. Just like he hoped the boy would. So Alastair reacted accordingly. With a firm grip to Dean's throat after forcing the boy to feel as much pain as he could thanks to Alastair's ability with biokinesis. He held the boy against the wall hard enough Alastair knows it bruised some parts of him right down to the bone.

_Dean gasped as he tried to get the air back in his lungs from having the wind knocked out of him. Alastair forced his boy to look at him while smiling down at him._

_“Report.” Alastair ordered as he tightened and loosened his grip on Dean's throat but never enough to cut off the ability to speak. If anything it was a very gentle loving touch._

_“No...” Dean insisted, foolish boy._

_With that Dean's phone rang and Alastair took it from Dean before he could react. It was Sam._

_“I could always answer the phone, I'm sure your brother would recognize my voice.” Alastair suggested, what luck did he have that it was little Sammy who was phoning his big brother._

_“No... Please. Don't answer the phone.” Dean pleaded and Alastair smiled. Dean was so desperate to hide what he has done from Sam it was beautiful in it's usefulness. Alastair didn't have to speak, the boy knows what to do. And report he did, sounding reluctant and defeated. Sometimes even hesitating._

_No one really saw that Dean was standing on a edge and very soon a gentle breeze would be enough to knock him down to never be saved again. Once is enough, the second time won't ever come to pass._

_The second trial was to save a soul from Hell. But no matter how much probing Dean didn't give and Alastair decided for once to leave it. Instead he moved on, he wanted more information. That was when he learnt about Castiel and his conversation with Dean. Alastair had to laugh._

_“Loves you?” Alastair said, laughter in his voice. Dean seemed to shudder against the wall. Alastair of course used those words and that information to cut Dean in ways Dean has already started to do himself. All the while Dean stared up at the ceiling and perhaps the sky's beyond that. The boy was hoping but not praying for help._

_Alastair's hand travelled down to his boy's clothed crotch._

_“Go ahead and pray.”_

Dean didn't pray and submitted angrily to what Alastair was doing and no one said a word as they exited. Dean fled the bar with an angry defiant look on his face. The boy was looking for a fight and it showed as he confronted not one but two people as he left. Alastair simply stood there chuckling as he watched. No one looked at Alastair at that moment, fear was intoxicating and Alastair was immensely pleased by it.

The reaper's name was Ajay. Alastair knows this as he turned his attention from his own thoughts and pleasant memories to Crowley who promptly stood up. Without a word he left to attend to the business he needs to regarding that rogue reaper. Alastair himself travelled to Hell and shuddered with the comfort of the heat that greeted him. He simply left his vessel topside and unconscious. He knows that Crowley won't be back in time to do anything unnecessary to the body.

So in his true form, the one that Dean would recognize instantly in a heartbeat. Alastair followed the scent of a living body entering the plains of Hell for the first time in such a long time. This place wasn't normally corporeal so there isn't normally a place for a living body to walk or breath or anything.

This was memories and imagination in it's twisted glory. And it was always different.

Sam Winchester has reached the soul he was searching for. The one of Bobby Singer. It took the boy some time to convince the human soul that Sam was Sam and not some demon playing the role. Alastair knows he should stop this from happening but there is just something so alluring to giving hope and then snatching it away.

Or perhaps that is his own arrogance catching up to him?

Though he was suddenly angry at seeing how easy it was for Sam to get here. Through Purgatory! Why was he so foolish, Alastair himself could have figured out a way back to Hell through Purgatory. But the fact that Dean practically fell back into his lap was something he couldn't simply ignore and he let his own personal needs take over.

Hissing angrily he fled Hell and back into the chilly world of Earth and housing himself in his meat suite.

Alastair frowned and took out his frustrations on the remaining survivors on his racks. Two trials down and then the third would come, but Alastair didn't know which one that was. Perhaps he overshot his attempts to break apart that haphazard team that he might have given something away that he shouldn't have. Crowley would be angry and amused at such a novice mistake.

Alastair snarled angrily to himself. He was angry but he had to wait and see.

So rather then wasting his time and energy on fretting like a beginner Alastair pulled up a chair and sat down in the centre of his torture room and waited for the word. The word could come from Crowley and it could be bad news or good news. Or the word could come from Dean in regards to the little group's standing with each other in regards to Meg and them.

He so desperately hoped that Meg would fall into their hands and tell them everything.

Even more he wanted to be there when they realize that Dean brought over a monster from Purgatory worse then anything he could have originally considered. It was a pity really but Alastair can wait and hear all about it either way when the time comes for the conclusions to this gamble take place.


	13. Expiry Dates and Deadlines

Dean ended up drinking himself into a state of intoxicated numbness or at least he tried to. There was too much going on now and Dean didn't feel equipped to deal with any of it. The only good thing that seemed to have happened lately was the fact that Bobby's soul was saved from Hell and released to Heaven so he could ride the highway of good memories. At least the old hunter could have that, it was the least they could do for him.

Bobby pretty much told them to look after each other, that the whole don't go looking for each other was bullshit more or less. If only Bobby knew, he'd be so disappointed in Dean.

To make matters worse was that Meg found them, Castiel healed her as best that he could because she was in bad shape. Tortured and Dean knows who probably did the torturing. That meant one thing, whatever Alastair wanted from her he probably got and found another use for her. That was the only reason she was free and here. For the first time since meeting Meg, he felt sorry for her.

Closing his eyes as he leaned back against the window of the Impala where he sat on the front hood. A storm was coming, that much Dean can feel and it wasn't going to end well. Not for Dean anyway.

They now know that Alastair was alive and as active as ever.

_Sam was shocked and horrified and Dean could only stare at the lot of them as Meg spoke. She seemed almost human in the emotions coming from her. She felt betrayed and she was hurt and lost._

_“Alastair did this to me.” She said. Dean felt his throat tighten at that and it must have showed because he got looks of concern from nearly everyone and questioning looks from Kevin and his mother. They didn't know what kind of monster Alastair was, Dean was kind of glad and jealous because of that. There is times even now he wished he never met or knew who Alastair was._

_But he does, and he always will._

_“He thinks that I've became too human, and he wanted to know things like where Lucifer's crypts were. Crowley and Alastair they're working together.” After she said that Sam took point in questioning. Sam wanted to know how Alastair is alive, how he came back. Dean wanted to say that he brought him back from Purgatory. And Dean hoped that Sam would never know what Dean did._

_Meg of course was in the dark about who he got back and who helped him back._

_“Can you tell us why Crowley and Alastair are looking for Lucifer's crypts?” Castiel asked as he sat next to her. Dean felt a surge of jealousy and almost laughed because of it. Him feeling jealous, what did that even mean? Dean was damned and he was lost and this wasn't going to end with a happy ever after for him so why feel anything in regards to an angel who's sitting next to a damned creature from Hell._

_“There's an angel tablet, Crowley wants it.”_

_That was her answer._

It was at that point Dean had to excuse himself from the group. Sam of course sent a concerned look and Dean wanted to lash out because of it. He didn't want concern or sympathy. This was his fault so why would he be concerned with getting those sort of emotions directed at him.

The fact that there was an angel tablet was interesting though, Dean didn't know why but it was interesting and it could prove useful against those dicks with wings. Especially ones that seek to start up the Apocalypse. And he still had to worry about getting the word of God that they had here. The one for demons. With the distraction of Meg being here, Kevin didn't translate anything more of it. But he will soon.

“Dean.” A female voice, Meg herself was coming to talk to him. Dean opened his eyes and regarded her with little to no emotion. She was cleaned up and wearing extra clothing that belonged to Linda. She looked like your average good girl. It didn't suit her at all. Dean ended up glaring at her. What did she want with him?

She ignored the glare of course and sat on the Impala with him and took the drink right out of his hand and took a big gulp of it. Dean refused to take it back, he didn't want to drink anything from it now that she soiled it. She of course looked offended and snapped at him for it before putting the lid back on and setting it between them.

“He's obsessed with you.” Meg said, Dean knows who they were talking about. Their old teacher and Dean's master again.

“Good for me...” Dean forced out, to hear from her that Alastair seemed to be obsessed with him almost choked him. It wasn't good news and it was far from a good turn of event regarding the old demon.

“Not really. Clarence seems well, but he's hiding something.” Meg shot back, picking up the bottle and offering it back to Dean. This time he took it and ended up polishing half the bottle. Of course Meg seemed amused with that, the bitch and Dean let her know that much. She of course let it slide, trying to be the mature one here. Which was laughable at best.

“Cas is always hiding something, he's an angel so he knows a lot that he doesn't say and we don't ask.” Dean tried to offer as an explanation while noting that Castiel hasn't said anything about how Alastair escaped Purgatory. Dean was relieved and almost disappointed by that. It was weird to say the least.

“That's a bit rude, not tryin...” Meg started, a familiar sneer spreading across her face. Dean hated her right then and wished that she never escaped Alastair's personal attention. Guilt of course instantly set in at that thought. No one deserves Alastair's attention.

“You know what the fuck I mean.” Dean snarled as he sat up straight and glared down at her. She didn't budge and in the corner of Dean's eye he see's Sam approach. Sam made it clear to her that she was to leave and that he wanted to have a word with Dean alone and Dean felt himself give a bitter scoff. Sam was going to demand answers or go for a chick flick moment, Sam was also going to get angry if the conversation goes into dangerous area's.

Dean couldn't look him in the eyes and honestly felt afraid at what he might see there.

“Dean.” Sam started, guilt in his eyes but not yet pleading with Dean. It didn't have to be, he already knows this conversation wasn't going to be a good one.

“Don't.” Dean warned, trying to stop it before it starts even though it never works because Dean can never really stop Sam or even say no to him for the most part. Sam was Dean's single most human part and his biggest weakness. Sam was everything to Dean and he was worth the sacrifices Dean was making this time around. He just hoped that one day Sam would realize that he had no fault in this, in any o of this. Dean hoped that one day Sam would find his peace.

“Just listen okay, I'm sorry. Cas told me what gone on in Purgatory...” Sam started and that was not what Dean was expecting though he should have. Dean knows he should have expected it.

“What! He told you what?” Dean snarled as he shot a glare towards the house for a moment before singling in on Sam while getting to his feet. How could Castiel do that to Dean? How can he just tell Sam what was going on there and worse what did he say. Dean still had the same hopes for Dean, but a new feeling of betrayal swirled in Dean's mind.

“Dean, Cas told me that Alastair manipulated you in Purgatory. That... That you two had sex more then once. That you helped Alastair get out of Purgatory. Why didn't you tell me this? Why did I have to hear it from Cas and not you?” Sam said and Dean felt like he was physically hit. It was all in Sam's eyes, the hurt and sorrow and anger. One thing Dean knows about his family was that they were intense in emotions when giving emotions. Sam was one of the most forthcoming in emotions though and didn't shy away from them as quickly as Dean does.

Sam doesn't know about the deal that Dean made, but he knew more then he should and Dean felt like the world was spinning with guilt and shame and anger.

Dean had to put space between them while rubbing his face in a frustrated manner. He heard a disappointed and annoyed sigh from Sam and that was enough to have him spinning around on Sam to glare.

“What the fuck was I supposed to say! Guess what Sam, I met the demon who tortured me for years and fucked him?! No, I wasn't going to say that because it's something that I feel ashamed for. Disgusted with myself for. So ya, Sam I didn't say a word. So sue me. I had no other way out and I had to get out of there.” Dean snarled angrily, aware that all eyes were on him now from both Sam and in the house. Dean wondered if Alastair would be amused with the situation, but Dean didn't have to wonder for long because he knows Alastair would be enjoying Dean's current situation.

Sam opened his mouth to say something, Dean didn't want to hear it so he turned his back for a moment before a bitter laugh broke free.

“You know... You know Sam that you were topic number one most of the time. He said that you wouldn't look for me, wouldn't try to get me out like you did when I went to Hell. I told him that you would, I was so sure and so determined that you would at least spend a month or so trying to get me out... It... It turned out that he was right...” Dean said and winced physically when he saw how hurt that made Sam. He didn't mean to hurt Sam! But Dean couldn't stop himself from saying those things. It was like a flood gate was open and now Dean was fighting against the tide to stop anything else from coming out.

Dean remembered a year he spent at Lisa. He didn't try to get Sam out and Sam suffered so badly for that.

“Dean...” Sam's voice sounded so lost and small. Dean flinched inwardly as he approached Sam and leaned against the Impala next to him. He felt like shit for doing this to Sam. Sam didn't deserve it.

“I'm sorry Sam... Sorry that I said that, sorry I didn't try to get you out and sorry I accused you of not trying to get me out. I shouldn't have said that.” Dean said quietly. The apology was sincere and Dean found it was not something that was easy to say but it was meant in all honestly. It was one of the times where Dean would freely offer up an apology.

Nothing more was said, neither of them was really good at this anymore and they didn't know what else to do. Dean felt like he was shattering for it and that shamed him to some degree.

It took a good half an hour before either of them even moved from the spot even if it was just to move from a growing uncomfortable spot.

“I'm sorry Dean... I was so lost and I didn't know what else to do. I'm not as strong as I used to be.” Sam offered up as an explanation as he rubbed his face, a trait he no doubt got from Dean because it was mostly just them so it was natural that they shared traits in some situations.

“You're stronger then me Sam. You're stronger then what you give yourself credit for. We should go inside... Make sure Meg hasn't annoyed Linda too much.” Dean said and Sam seemed to agree. Dean felt like they were finally getting back on the same page for the first time in a long time. That maybe they could be brothers again. The only problem was that Dean had a deal that he won't be able to back out of and he was going to lose his brother.

“What were you two talking about anyway?” Sam asked, tone taking on a friendlier shade rather then the hurt and angered one earlier.

“Nothing much, just that Alastair is obsessed with me. Guess I'm just that interesting, not that I blame him I'm just that good.” Dean answered, decided on giving Sam this much just to keep things going good between them for a few more selfish minutes. He turned it into a joke though. It worked because Sam was amused due to the reluctant snort he got from the man.

They separated on a promise from Sam to watch Dean's back, telling him that Alastair wasn't going to get to Dean this time and that Sam was there. Dean could only smile at that before closing his door behind him and sliding down to the ground. He got his brother back and Meg spilt her guts to them about what Alastair did and want, Castiel told Sam what Dean got up to in Purgatory.

And the worst thing was that he was going to lose his brother again. He did want to tell Sam that Alastair already had him even before this conversation came around. It was tragic and it was so unfair. There was the temptation to stop and try to get out of the deal. They only had one trial left and that meant that he could be free of the deal and all those demon's would be locked away.

Dean closed his eyes and pictured a world without demons. He pictured a world where he and Sam would be hunting side by side again, pulling pranks again like they did so long ago now. A world where they weren't being chased or chasing after Hell and the schemes that come from that place. Dean can almost hear the rumbling of the Impala in his mind and the smell of burgers and Sam's laughter.

Eventually he fell asleep with those thoughts playing in his mind.

Only they didn't stay friendly. They never do with other memories playing in his dreams. The memories of Hell and Purgatory and now with the dream of being abandoned for the normal life after Dean goes through everything that he has. All in all, Dean didn't get to sleep an hour before waking up angry and hurt and just a bit dazed. With a frown he stood up and walked over to his bed and laid down. What should he do? What could he do?

His phone vibrates and with a lot of hesitation Dean picks it up and reads the text.

'Where's the Word of God?'

The number belongs to Crowley. Dean felt heavy again with the burden of what he has to do and what he wants to do. Dean takes a deep breath and goes to answer it when he heard Sam snarl in the living room. Exiting his room he entered the room where he see's Sam on the phone. Angry. Accusing. Threatening.

Who was he talking to?

“Don't you dare do any of that Crowley! You hear me, you do it and I'll kill you.” Sam snarled, any broken and tiredness you would normally hear in Sam's voice was replaced by anger and accusation. Dean felt his heart drop. What did Crowley say? What should Dean do? His phone vibrated again. Dean looked at it while everyone was distracted.

'This isn't a joke darling, I'm getting serious and so should you.'

Dean only looked up when the sound of a phone being tossed against a wall caught his attention. Of course everyone was demanding answers and wanted to know what was going on. Meg's attention was on Dean though, Dean found himself uncomfortable because of it.

“That son of a bitch, he said if we don't stop what we're doing right here and now he'll start killing them...” Sam snarled out and Dean frowned. Who did he mean? Kill who?

“Who?” Kevin asked, taking Dean's question right out of his mouth.

“Everyone we saved... The bastard has read Chuck's books and is currently hunting down everyone we saved...” Sam answered angrily as he paced the room. It was a reminder of the temper Sam actually has wrapped up in himself. Dean felt like the world was weighing down on him and that the room was getting smaller.

Would Crowley actually do it?

That was an easy answer though, yes Crowley would because Crowley was a demon and that was what they did. Murder to get what they want and Dean knows that this was an attack against them even though he wasn't actually physically attacking them himself. It was still a shot at them. And Dean hated how smart the attack was despite how cruel it was, Dean would do something like that if he was in Crowley's or Alastair's position rather then being in the position he was in currently. From where he was standing, it seemed too cruel.

Those people that they saved were the only things that made life worth living because Dean knows they're out there. They're safe and sound and living their lives.

Dean had to push those thoughts aside and focus on the situation at hand. It was now a loud debate on what to do, Dean of course added his own two cents in it. He didn't want Crowley to kill those people because of them not caving under Crowley's pressure. Dean cursed Crowley, how could he not? Dean felt eyes on him, Meg and Castiel for two different reasons no doubt. Suspicion in Meg's eyes and concern in Castiel's.

Kevin had the tablet with him, it was always with him and Dean had to look away.

“We can't just stop, we have one trial left and then we're free from demons.” Sam stated, Dean had to watch as the brother he knew stepped into a role of a leader. The boy who despised moving around who grew into an adult who wanted a normal life now fitting somewhat awkwardly into a leadership role. Something that at one time belonged to Dean even though Dean didn't want that sort of position and responsibility.

“Wait, wait one second. What do you mean one trial left and then you're free of demons?” Meg asked, standing up straight and overly cautions. She was ready to bolt any second if she had to. Dean frowned as they all stared at her. Kevin was the one who stepped up to the plate and explained to her what they were trying to do. All he had to do was finish translating one more thing and they would have it.

To her credit she didn't bolt, instead she protested verbally but Castiel managed to silence her and somehow talked her into staying with them. Helping them at least stop Crowley from doing what he was going to do. Dean found himself thinking of a thought that made him feel uncomfortable with guilt and dare he say excitement. He hated Meg, so the thought of taking her down was a guilty pleasure of his. And to make sure Crowley didn't kill those people was a plus. There was also the little bit about the deal Dean made with both Crowley and Alastair for Sam.

They settled in that night, everyone uncomfortable and waiting for what Crowley would do next. Of course the only way to get Crowley to really stop was to say 'I surrender' and none of them said that because everyone was hoping it was a bluff and Dean felt guilty for not telling them about the text.

The next day they got an email from an unknown address, which they discovered quite easily was Crowley's. In it held the picture and name of a young man and a girlfriend looking happy. Dean didn't recognize the young man until he read the name and realized that it was Tommy Collins. Sam scrolled down and Dean wished he told him not to because there was a picture of him in the morgue without a head, it clearly exploded.

That got them moving, they were trying to figure out who would Crowley go after next. Meg of course suggested that they 'surrender' in order to save the humans they saved. She probably did that because she doesn't want to be locked away like every other demon. Kevin kept translating but being on the move now made it slightly harder to do. He was close though, it had to do with a cure of some sort.

Time seemed to fly by quicker because of the rush they were in.

They got an email the next day and Dean literally told Sam not to open it. Sam did anyway and a picture of a young woman with blond hair came up, she was smiling and Dean remembered who she was. Jenny Klein who was hexed by Maggie the eight hundred year old witch. There was a picture of her body as a burnt corpse in a morgue. Anger coursed through Dean's body as he stormed outside. He even phoned Crowley to demand that he stopped what he was doing, but the damned demon didn't answer it.

Instead he got a text that told him that he knew what he had to do. This time he got a name though, Crowley was being a sadistic person and telling Dean who he's going to kill next and even sent a photo of her.

Sarah, Dean remembered her because she was one of the few girls Sam went out with while they were on a case.

Dean had to face facts right now, he had to tell them who was next and had to figure out how to tell them that Crowley told him who it was going to be. This wasn't going to be an easy conversation. Harder still because he knows that at one time Sam was attracted to her and possibly still is.

“Who do you...” Sam asked, trying to figure things out obviously. Dean for once beat him to it though.

“Sarah Blake.” Dean cut Sam off as Sam obviously was trying to figure out who was next. They all looked at Dean and Dean had to rub the back of his neck before sizing it up to Crowley being sadistic and trying to give them a chance just to be an asshole. Dean hoped that it would be enough to save her, at least save one person.

They of course didn't take it well. They wanted to know why Dean would be told and what he did to get told who was going to be targeted.

Dean seriously felt like he was running out of time for a lot of things and any trust he had with these people was running out as time went on. It was a mind numbing blow, one Dean wasn't sure he could take well in the long run despite the fact that he should be used to it at this point.


	14. Bread Crumbs and Victories

Crowley sat in an office he had set up in his rather large mansion, not the one that Alastair found him at. This one was a different one and within the same town as the Winchester's purposely picked because Crowley wanted to keep them within his sight. Behind him was several books of different ages. Some still had the wood covers. Crowley was at times a collector when it suited him best and some of those books had old spells in. Things that young witches can only dream of possessing. There was also the books published by the prophet Chuck.

Crowley was a firm believer of knowing your enemies and what better way then to read about them in rather graphic details. He wasn't intending on reading about their sex life or lack thereof. Or Sam's bloody fling with Ruby, and he did very much mean the word bloody because of Sam's addiction to demon blood. The least the moose could have done was have better taste then common riffraff. But beggars can't be choosers and from what he read, Sam was shameless when he wanted it. All behind Dean's back, and it was very entertaining to read.

And that was how he picked them. The choices the boys would remember off the top of their head. The pawns in his threat, one the boys should have taken seriously when they had the chance. But like any good Winchester, they didn't. Don't get Crowley wrong, he's fully aware of the threat those two denim wrapped nightmares are. He's no fool. But sometimes those two were plain stupid in thinking someone's bluffing when they're not. It's the same with some things out there regarding the two Winchester's.

Crowley had two pictures in front of him. Printed off of his phone. Proof of what he has done.

Crowley has moved on to his third choice and perhaps the most memorable one of them all. After all the moose stole the breath from this little bird. Crowley looked at the picture of her, the still living picture that he had on his phone. She wasn't aware that Crowley took a picture of her, he could be pretty sneaky when he wanted to be despite the fact that he wears all black and that tends to stick out at times.

Sarah Blake.

This was the only one he gave warning for. And now he had to wait and watch the time. He had a nifty spell waiting to come into effect come twelve. And it was eleven now. Pouring himself a drink he simply enjoyed the build up of what could be a very entertaining situation that could go two ways.

While he waits though, he'll reminiscence

The picture on top of the two was of a young man who gone by the name of Tommy Collins. His head of course was no longer in the picture but there was a photo showing his body and the horrified expression of his lovely little girlfriend. This boy was saved by the Winchester's from an attack by a Wendigo.

_Crowley watched from the side of the room the young man was standing in with his lovely dark haired girl. They were visiting a cabin, which took some convincing on her part. Old memories of Tommy Collins no doubt keeping him away from the woods, understandably. She was in bliss because she obviously had her way. Poor thing won't be able to enjoy it for long._

_Crowley simply took a sip as he listened to their prattling until he set things in motion._

_Good old Tommy started to hear the tall tale signs of a Wendigo. Of course it takes a bit, at first he thinks he's hearing things. But it became apparent to him anyway that he wasn't. His lovely girlfriend didn't hear a thing. To her the night was normal, and it could very well be normal. If not for Crowley's presence as unseen as it was._

_Things of course escalate quickly and Crowley checks his phone's clock and it was right on time. Crowley let a smile spread as he watched with satisfaction as Tommy armed himself with a blow torch. Ready to defend himself and his girl against a monster that just wasn't there. Crowley toyed with the notion of having him kill his girlfriend by mistake to break him first, but time wasn't really letting that happen._

_The pain should be starting right about -_

_now... The thud of knees to the cabin floor caused Crowley to pause in his movements as he watched the boy make his pain known while blood started to come from his ears and eyes. The girl was panicking and demanding to know what's going on, looking around as she could only watch helplessly as the final touch took place._

_Tommy Collins head literally explodes leaving her to stand there in horror as the rest of the body collapsed in a heap on the ground. She'll be traumatized for life and Crowley couldn't help but chuckle._

_Crowley waited until the body was in the morgue before he took a picture and sent it by email._

Crowley was aware that he should give them clues, but really everything they needed was in those books and if the boys were thinking then they should know this. So instead he simply kept moving forward, the photo's in the email was enough to tell them how serious he actually was. And Crowley does not make a threat without having the means or willingness to go through with it. He didn't just push his weight around like a child trying to prove a point.

He was the King of Hell and that meant something!

By the time he sent the second picture of a young woman who goes by the name Jenny Klein it was already too late. Again as far as Crowley was concerned, they should be reading those books or contacting through phones or emails to see who was still alive and who wasn't. They should have ruled out the group saves automatically because that was too tedious for Crowley to seek out, not that he wouldn't if that's what it took. No the individual important saves. The one on one personal time's between the boys and the saved.

Crowley was aware of the history of Jenny Klein. She was the unfortunate target of an enraged eight hundred year old witch going by the name Maggie. Jenny was assisting her lover Don Stark in adultery who happens to be the husband of the angry witch, equally as old and powerful as she. It was rather entertaining to be honest.

_Jenny was home alone when Crowley found her. He walked her place for about an hour finding out little things about her. Happy photo's of her family and her friends along with herself. She was well adjusted to living a modest and good life. There was no sign of the witch she was a lover to. She no doubt felt disgusted and ashamed with herself for falling into such a situation of helping someone cheat on his wife. Let alone that said man was a witch. A powerful one at that. Both him and his wife were powerful, she was lucky that she survived._

_She wouldn't have if the Winchester's didn't play hero and had to counsel two married witches while trying not to get themselves killed in the process which Crowley will never stop finding funny._

_Crowley followed the sound of things being clattered around in the kitchen where she was. She was considering baking something obviously considering there was unmixed ingredients on the counter. Flour and eggs among other things. Crowley approached the book and noticed the recipe for chocolate cookies. Of all things to make. A pity he didn't come later, he would have taken them for himself to say the least._

_All the same, baking wasn't what he was here for._

_The last target didn't see Crowley even as he took his last breath before his head quite literally exploded. This little bird will. Crowley appeared just as she turned he back to him. Not that it bothered him as he reached over and turned the oven on with a click. It drew her attention behind her pretty quickly at that point because up to this point she thought she was alone._

_“Hello darling.” Crowley greeted as he moved his hand back to his side. At this point the demands started, that much he expected and let her go through. He didn't answer until he had her pinned up against the counter without even touching her or using his abilities. Instead he just crowded her._

_“You asked me why I'm here, that's simple love. I'm here because you were saved by two denim clad hunters. Winchester's. They saved you from an understandably upset witch who hexed you. Saved you sweetheart from an relevantly easy death. That would have been a mercy.” Crowley explained, and waited and watched as fear and realization crept into her lovely eyes. Crowley liked to be civil but he wasn't above taking pleasure out of someone's fear or pain._

_But he didn't have time to watch her emotions and reactions. So he pushed forward a bit more until he felt her warm trembling body against his own borrowed flesh that he now fully owns in his own opinion._

_Crowley told her exactly what he was going to do to her. She didn't have to worry about being violated, Crowley wasn't there for that. He was there to kill her. She pleaded with him but that didn't do anything to sway Crowley's decision as he grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her forward while opening the oven. She was baking, so why not._

_He pushed her hard enough that she was half in the oven, back broken and unable to move. She screamed and pleaded and called for help but with a muttered incantation he once learnt from his Mother the room was silenced. Nothing could hear what was going on in the room. Crowley waved his hand in her direction, not that he had to but he figured she would appreciate the gesture as she looked out the corner of her eye to where Crowley was standing._

_That was when the real agony started. Her body started to burn from the inside out. Only her legs and waist would be left behind on the oven door while the rest of her would be ashes and a burnt form resembling a corpse. Crowley left her like that with the recipe book changed to bread._

_Crowley tracked down her body at the morgue to take a picture of it to send to the Winchester's, it was fitting to keep up the theme of pictures from a morgue._

And all of that led to Crowley waiting for the unavoidable death of the third. Sarah Blake who was wooed by Sam Winchester back when they first met. It was light and friendly, playful even from what he's read. Sam was attracted to her, but the boy didn't know what he wanted and had shorter hair then as well. She was rich, Sam wasn't and that didn't matter because the girl had more brass then others in her society. She was also curious and tough and delved right into the mess the Winchester's were trying to stop. A brave little girl.

It's going to cost her if the Winchester's don't step up to the plate. Crowley wasn't going to be there for this one, after all the whole trail thing revolved around demons and Hell so he's going another route. He's using a little hex bag tightly made and tucked inside of the phone in the room with them. Come a few minutes before midnight he'll phone them and the whole thing started.

Crowley didn't really know what he's going to say but Crowley knows he'll come up with something. He's good at thinking on his feet.

Checking the time he smiled and dialled the phone number and putting it on speaker. He waited until someone answered. Sam, it was funny because he thought Dean would be the one answering the phone for some odd reason. He didn't grace the occupants in the room with a greeting because he knew they'd be there after all he did give them time to get to her and he did tell Dean who was the next target.

“Five... Four... Trois... Zwei... Uno...” Crowley started counting, he heard the surprised collapse and the sound of choking and smiled. How could he not, it was going according to plan at the moment.

“She's dying, and there's nothing you can do about it.” Crowley stated and he was surprised to hear Castiel's voice in the background already trying to figure out what was wrong but the boy was so backward and depressed it'll take the angel some time to get a grip. Meg of course had snark to her and was questioning where Dean is. Sam stated to never mind about that, they had other concerns like the choking girl.

Crowley just carried on anyway.

“I thought of sending a few of my bruisers, really letting them go to town but then, well, trial one was kill a hellhound. Trial two was rescue a soul from the pit. So, from here on, I'm going to keep everything hell-related... demons, et cetera... away from you. Safe side and all that... plus, I just thought it seemed fitting. From what...” Crowley was saying, in fact he thought what he was saying was genius but of course he was interrupted by a demon coming in, nervous because the consequences are known. His attention was being demanded on the other end of the phone. Demands for him to stop.

The demon gulped and stated,  
“You have someone who wishes to speak with you. He already stabbed one of us.” Crowley was irate, but didn't hang up the phone as he indicated that the demon to continue. Despite his own irate mood at being interrupted he was a bit curious on who was here and wanting to speak with him badly enough that he attacked a demon to get it.

“Who?” Crowley asked, ignoring the panicked sounds over the phone. Someone even said destroy the phone, which he recognized as Meg. Crowley found that amusing, inwardly he couldn't help but note that she was right and that they should listen. But so far they're not and she's frustrated.

“Dean.” The demon answered and then silence on the other end except for the sounds of Sarah choking to death. Then a quiet no from Sam who obviously heard the demon. Crowley turned his attention to the phone. He could say something sarcastic or gloat but why should he. Instead he put them on mute, they could hear Crowley but no one would hear them.

“Let him in.” Crowley stated, it was obvious that he was feeling victorious at the moment because he knows how to gamble and he knows that he put his lot in with the right choices and that Dean would come to him. And with that command two demons dragged Dean in despite his struggling. One demon put the demon killing knife down on the desk and Crowley picked it up. He knows Dean's probably cursing the fact that he took away one of the defences his brother had, but no doubt coming here with a plan or a partially formed plan.

Crowley smiled and Dean seethed angrily. With a wave the two demons left and Dean was left vibrating in his anger.

“Where's the tablet?” Crowley asked as politely as he could despite the fact that he radiated smugness because Crowley knows that he's won this round. Alastair would no doubt be amused and would provoke Dean to a point with a verbal poke and probe here and there.

“The stop hunting them down.” Dean demanded in response and Crowley just sat back and fixed Dean with a hard stare forcing the Winchester to shift uncomfortably. Crowley did have that effect on people when he wanted to.

“First the tablet. Ah! Before you go and sprout out your threats and demands remember that Sarah Blake is currently choking to death. In about another minute she'll be dead.” Crowley explained and he had to admit he would love to know how Sam Winchester and the others are reacting to this. To k now that they're being sold out by the oldest Winchester. The Righteous Man himself.

Dean opened his mouth and closed it.

“Sarah is running out of time Dean.” Crowley stated calmly, gently and sadistically pushing at Dean to make a decision and make it now. His hero instincts won't let her die but Dean was falling from that step faster and faster. Crowley couldn't contain himself, he ended up turning the mute off so Dean could hear what's going on and who was listening on the other end.

“Dean! No! Don't do it, we'll fix it...” Castiel's voice.

The sound of choking no doubt seemed to fill the room for Dean, though it was growing weaker and weaker. She was dying a slow death. Crowley didn't care for that though. Instead he focused on the sight before him, the trembling with anger and defeat and so utterly lost. It was almost intoxicating if not for the situation at hand.

Dean managed to force out a defeated 'fine' before pulling it out of his jacket and set it in front of Crowley. Dean no doubt heard the sounds of betrayed hurt on the other side of the phone. It even forced tears to swell in the boy. Crowley smiled victoriously and the sound of someone gasping for air as the choking stopped, relief no doubt filling her body for being able to breath. However the situation won't allow anyone to count it as a victory.

“Dean!” Sam's voice, no doubt trying to reason with Dean or get Dean to make sense of what happened. Crowley would have laughed if he wasn't so caught up with the entire situation. So instead he resigned himself to watching Dean stare at the phone like he wanted to say something. Possibly a 'sorry Sammy' or something like that. Instead with a shaky hand Dean picked the phone up and set it down, hanging up.

Crowley leaned forward and picked up the word of God, the one for demons. Now all he had to do was fetch the little prophet but for that he wouldn't be able to use Dean for that. The Winchester managed to sever connections just like that. All to save the lives of people that was saved. Not that it'll matter in the long run, but Dean didn't need to know that.

“Have a seat, this leaves us in a position where things have to be rearranged and discussed.” Crowley ordered and Dean who was too lost for words and insults reluctantly did. And Crowley wasn't making it up, they had to figure out what was going to happen now. Or more correctly, Crowley had to figure out. Dean couldn't go back and in turn couldn't give constant reports. So then what to do with him? Perhaps he could give him to Alastair to fix.

After all the deal was that Sam gets a new normal life all happy and well adjusted and in exchange for that Dean was to give Crowley information and he has. Loophole the boy has that he didn't know was for how long, Crowley didn't say how long he had to give information. So then what did that leave for Crowley, this wasn't a deal for souls. It was as he said, a tit for tat sort of thing. I give you this and you give me that.

“After I fetch Kevin Tran, your brother will wake up married and happy. Normal.” Crowley calmly stated and with that he sent a text, an order. Fetch the boy and why not send Alastair himself. With a note of don't kill off Sam Winchester or else the deal is void. Everyone else on the other hand is expendable.

A nod, firm and short. Dean kept his mouth closed though, didn't say a word. Felt horrible no doubt. Crowley was enjoying it for a moment.

“That leaves the problem of what to do with you?” Crowley left that hanging in the air as he stood up and walked around the desk to stand next to Dean's chair creating room for something to happen, anything at all. And it did, anger flashed in Dean's eyes. Anger along with pain and hurt and other rather nasty emotions. But it wasn't the look that had Crowley reacting, it was the fact that Dean shot out of the chair and went towards the demon killing knife in order to attack Crowley who was within striking range.

Only that didn't happen, Crowley simply made a twisting motion with his hand and Dean collapsed in pain, blood coming from the corner of his mouth. Crowley was literally squeezing his insides but not enough to rupture anything. The blood came from when Dean smacked his chin on the desk when he collapsed and biting either his tongue or cheek hard enough to spill his own blood. Hands gripping his stomach and the knife forgotten on the ground.

“There's a loophole in the deal darling, I wasn't lying when I said it wasn't for souls but souls can be a price of it. You don't have to offer your soul for it to fall to Hell. You betrayed your brother. You betrayed your angel. You betrayed the Prophet of the Lord and his mother. You created a situation that can cause their deaths and that is blood on your life. You fraternized with demons, one the Chief Torturer of Hell and the other the King of Hell.” Crowley stated and it was true, his soul would be judged by those crimes now. He wouldn't be judged by others as much because let's face it in order to get what Heaven wants they expunged his sins as best that they could and when he helped his brother save the world from the Apocalypse and the Leviathans it earned his way to paradise.

But this was a whole new problem, during a time when trials are being done. And Dean was the desperate fool to throw his life and soul away for his brother walked right into it.

Crowley crouched down so he was at eye level with the pained Winchester who was realizing what happened and what he's done. But he also desperately held onto the fact that he had no other choice, when there was always other choices. But Crowley didn't say that, it wasn't his job to give people better choices. He was here to damn and take and win and rule. Not save. Not help. Dean looked him in the eyes, not one to back down from anything.

“You have a choice. I'm not that unkind. You can leave now, drive down that highway with your impala and live the rest of your life hoping to redeem yourself enough that when you die your soul won't be judged deserving for Hell. Or...” Crowley said, choices were always the best things to use when you're trying to get what you want or if you're trying to damn someone. Give them two options. The easy road or the hard one, the good and the evil. Righteous and sinful and so on. It made things easier for people and half the time they damn themselves anyway.

“Or?” Dean asked once he managed to get past the pain his insides no doubt felt when Crowley pressed down on them.

“Or... you can stay here, when I get back and if I find you here. Your soul will automatically be put back on Alastair's rack. Your sins, your crimes will be cut out of you and you'll be remade again. Free of the guilt you no doubt will be felling for the rest of your existence.” Crowley said, giving option number two. Granted this time there was no clean cut right or wrong, easy and hard decision. They both were nasty and Crowley couldn't help but feel satisfied with both.

Either way, Dean belonged to him. To Alastair. The boy damned himself in desperation to help his brother. Sam Winchester was Dean's weakness and the best thing to use when you want something from Dean. And the boy was just to useful to have tucked away like an ace in the sleeve. It just takes a bit of work to get him there.


End file.
